Blair and Jo's Amorous Adventure
by Apple Annie
Summary: When Blair and Jo finally act on their feelings for each other, trouble lies ahead. Blair has to learn how to deal with prejudice. Jo has to learn how to deal with Blair's world. This is a coming out story, set in the 1986.
1. Shall We Dance?

**DISCLAIMER:** Don't own 'em, no infringement intended, no profit made!

 **SERIES:** First story in

 **ARCHIVING:** Don't care!

"You think I can't handle being around gay people? That I might be bigoted or homophobic or something?"

"Uh… the thought had occurred to me," Jo responded.

Blair laughed ironically.

"You have no idea how many gay people run in my circles. _Ca ne fait rien._ It's positively _passé_."

Jo rolled her eyes.

"Speaking French does not make you gay-friendly, Blair."

"I suppose not," the blonde answered whimsically. "So I've been brushing up on my Oscar Wilde witticisms to burnish my credentials."

Jo couldn't help but let a smile cross her lips. Her manner softened.

"Be honest. Why do you want to tag along with me tomorrow? This really isn't your kinda' thing."

Blair looked incredulous.

"Excuse me? A social gathering with food, dancing and fashionable people not my thing: Have you met me?"

"It's ain't a society mixer, Blair. It's political. There will be speakers, causes, all sorts of tedious activities in the support of social justice and human rights," Jo sighed. "Look this is important to me. It's Langley's first Gay Pride weekend and since I've become active in Student Government, I want to make sure all parties have a voice; that everyone is represented."

Blair looked offended.

"What makes you think I'm not interested in social justice?"

"Your bank account," Jo smirked.

"Just because I'm a person of means doesn't mean I don't care about inclusion and equal rights."

Now it was Jo's turn to look incredulous.

"Yes it does!"

"I care about the little people as much as the next person!"

Jo was horrified.

"The _little people_?" she spit out.

"You know what I meant: the um, the um…"

"The great unwashed, the masses?" Jo interrupted her. "The wretched refuse yearning to breathe free?"

"You're being hyperbolic, Jo. I only meant…"

"Look, I've been an outsider since I got here," Jo cut her off again. "I know what it means to struggle for basic human acceptance. What do you know about any of this with your clothes and hair-do's and cars? Forget it, Blair. You're not coming. That's final!"

The blonde's face turned angry. "Why do you always have to so cruel to me?"

"I'm not being cruel. I'm being realistic."

"I'll go and do as I please. I'm a grown woman! You're not my keeper!" She plopped down in a dining room chair and rested her chin on both fists with her elbows set resolutely on the table. She peered up at Jo with a mix of anger and frustration.

"Real mature, Blair," Jo scoffed. She took a moment to regard her friend. She had her _big_ pout working… the one that usually got her whatever she wanted. _Such a spoiled brat!_ Yet, even as Blair glowered at her, she began to reflect upon their relationship. And here was the thing: she knew Blair was not actually a brat, nor a snob, nor insubstantial in any way. For all her riches and advantages, Blair had not had it that easy growing up. Her father was absent. Her mother had paraded a clown car of husbands and boyfriends through her life. She was often left alone as a child: no playmates, no family… only servants and nannies. The pretenses and airs the heiress often put on were really nothing more than a reflexive defense mechanism to shield herself from the melancholy truth that she wasn't always a priority in her own parents' lives. At least Jo had that: the undeniable love of her parents. They sacrificed everything for her to attend private schools. This gave Jo a foundation built on love. It was a safe internal space that the other woman just didn't have. The most secure underpinning of love that Blair had ever experienced had probably been with Mrs. Garrett, Natalie, Tootie… and her. It was sad.

She was also acutely aware of Blair's vulnerability. She didn't want anyone to see the hurt that lurked just below the surface. To Jo's knowledge, she had shared her feelings with no one but her. And truth be told, she hadn't revealed much to Jo. Only when she had noticed her in a down mood after yet another failed interaction with one of her parents would Blair open up about her disappointment. But she would always snap out of it quickly, covering with her usual élan.

It was amazing that Blair had turned out as well as she had. She was actually a caring, genuinely kind person and Jo knew it. This is what attracted her to Blair, well, one of the many things, if Jo was honest. It displayed incredible strength of character to rise above what could have been a life spent in the lap of luxury dwelling on her pain, _poor little rich girl_ , to form close, loving relationships and truly care about others. Caring meant exposing oneself to emotional pain… and Blair had had enough of that in her young life.

Jo sighed as she peered at the heiress, face set resolutely upon two fists. She was so much tougher than anyone even guessed at, Jo thought. How long had she been in love with her? She couldn't remember when it first became clear to her that her feelings for Blair were more than just friendly. But she remembered the time when the blonde skipped a skiing vacation in Vail to come spend Christmas with her and Mrs. Garrett in Peekskill. It was a gesture of love. Later that evening, the other girls gone, Blair had slipped into her bed and held her. She had tried to tell herself that she was too sleepy to realize what was happening, but she wasn't. She allowed it to happen. It felt good. In the morning, she had given it to Blair.

" _Blair, what are you doing?"_

" _I just wanted to wake up close to someone on Christmas morning!" Blair had replied cheerfully._

" _Okay. So now you have… back off."_

She recalled the hurt that crossed Blair's features and had regretted it ever since. They had gone on to have a lovely day, denying what was evident, as usual. But it remained one of her biggest sorrows. A sweet, lonely girl had reached out, risking rejection, to hold her through the night… and Jo had reflexively rebuffed her! _If only I could take that back, I would in a heartbeat!_ _Stupid! What was wrong with me?_ She had determined not to spurn Blair again if a similar occasion arose, but one never did. There was also the question of whether Blair felt the same way. Perhaps Blair just needed to be held, after all. It would be a terrible mistake to confuse Blair's need for physical comfort with sexual desire. Blair had never even hinted at being attracted to women. _Yet…_

Jo relented a little. "I just don't understand why you want to come."

Blair had that hurt look again. "You're so popular, Jo, so accomplished and successful at everything you attempt. Maybe I just want to be around that."

Jo was taken aback by her response. _What did that even mean?_

"Wait… what?"

"I just mean, look at all the clubs you're in and how far you've gone in student government. Everyone respects and loves you. I, uh…" Blair stopped short.

"You uh… what?" Jo prodded her.

Blair quickly avoided her glance. "Nothing. I just respect you… so much."

"Blair, people love and respect you, too. Hell, half the male population of Langley drools over you."

"I don't care about that anymore," Blair met her gaze. "I want to be respected for the right reasons."

"Seriously?" Jo gave her a disbelieving look.

"Oh, all right," Blair conceded as she rolled her eyes. "I still want to be adored. That's a given. But not by half the drooling male population at Langley."

"Well, when you put it that way…"

"I just want to be viewed as serious person, like you. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Look, I've made choices, Blair. You could be doing the same thing. Your priorities are just a little different."

"My priorities have been changing, Jo. Haven't you noticed at all?"

"Geez, Blair, I don't know," she sighed deeply. "Just explain to me why it is so important to you to come to _this_ event with me: to Gay Pride? You haven't showed any interest in my political activities before."

"Why is it you are so set on me _not_ going to Gay Pride with you, Jo?"

Jo felt suddenly uncomfortable. _Is she implying something?_ _Does she know something, for Pete's sake?_

"No reason!" she blurted out a little too defensively.

"Then it's settled," Blair jumped up beaming a radiant smile. "I'm going!"

Jo shook her head slowly. _How does she always get her way?_

"All right, then," she could barely get the words out before Blair had wrapped her in a tight embrace.

"I'm so happy! This will be so much fun!" Blair enthused.

Jo pushed her back and looked her in the eyes.

"Listen, Blair. We haven't got all the booths set up yet. I have to leave early and help with setting up stands and tables and such. If you're really interested in working for social justice, you can pitch in."

"I can do that," Blair nodded.

"Not in the fancy duds you usually wear. You'll have to dress for a little physical labor."

"I'll dress in my best dyke couture."

Jo lifted an eyebrow. "Dyke couture? That could be perceived as very offensive coming from a straight woman. You're pushing it, Warner."

Blair merely shrugged and gently swatted her friend's shoulder.

"Better get to bed now. Tomorrow's going to be a _big_ day," she smiled seductively.

 _Now what did she mean by that?_

Jo pondered the constant conundrum that was Blair Warner as she trailed her up the stairs to bed.

* * *

Blair passed the night in a fitful sleep. Internal dialogue kept her restless. The woman she desired more than anything in the world was a mere few feet from her. No longer would she allow her feelings to go unnoticed and unspoken. This was a gay celebration tomorrow and she intended to take full advantage of that.

She had no qualms about being with another woman. Why should it matter to her what others thought of whom she loved? She hadn't noticed anyone in her life consulting her on whom _they_ loved. Not her father… and certainly not her mother! Her stepsister had no qualms about giving up sexuality altogether to love and serve God without consulting her. No one had ever bothered to ask her opinion on their choices in life. It was none of their business whom she loved! She would not allow ridicule at any cost, she had determined. No one had the right to pass judgment on or make fun of her love for Jo.

And she did love Jo. She never gave her any special consideration because she was rich. As a matter of fact, she despised it! She could never be sure with boyfriends if they really cared about her, or if they were just interested in her for her money and social position. Certainly, high society had played its role in whom she had chosen to date. But it was a double-edged sword. If one were to choose romantic partners merely on the basis of status, how could one ever really know the other on a truly intimate level? This was not the case with Jo. No. Jo loved her for who she really was. She was as sure of that as she had ever been sure of anything! No one had ever lit a fire inside her like Jo. The intensity of her feelings was a revelation: this is what being _in love_ was. Even their arguments were passionate! The only remaining question was: would Jo accept her advances favorably?

Blair ran it over in her head. Catholic, working class families were fiercely traditional when it came to sexuality. She knew Jo was into her, she just knew it! Every fiber of her being called out to her that she was not in this alone. But would her upbringing prevent Jo from expressing her true desires?

Or, maybe, she allowed a shadow of a doubt to creep in, she was misinterpreting. She remembered a night she had wrapped Jo in a loving embrace. Jo had pulled her arm around her and sighed as she buried her face into her dark brown hair. She remembered kissing the back of her head. Eventually, when she was positive Jo was asleep; she ran her hand up under Jo's nightshirt and cupped her naked breast. Jo had moaned softly and placed her hand over hers. She was thrilled at the intimacy, but was terrified to try anything else! She remained frozen in this position, her senses hyper-aware, for as long as she dared. She then slipped her hand gently out from under the nightshirt and held her friend close until they awoke the next morning.

" _Back off,"_ stuck in Blair's head.

It had for over two years now. For all the signs that Jo loved her the way she loved Jo, those two negative words seemed to somehow carry a disproportionate weight. Despite that, it was probably the best Christmas of her life, Blair recalled. There were no boxes from over priced department stores, no jewelry exchanged, no superficial friends gloating over their exploits in Europe. Just two people she had grown to love preparing food and sharing laughter. This _was_ love, Blair had realized. This is what Christmas was supposed to be all about. At long last it had happened: she had a family! But, was she mistaking familial love for sexual desire?

Ridiculous, she reassured herself. Of course Jo loves me like I love her! It _can't_ be any other way!

True to her word, Blair was up early with Jo. She dressed in a pair of tights with leggings tucked into sensible (yet stylish) ankle boots, and topped it off with a soft sweater fastened around the waist with an over-sized belt… all in white. She assessed herself in the full-length mirror.

 _Not bad for a working girl: Elegant, yet functional._

As she swept her hair up on top of her head with a jeweled barrette, Jo appeared behind her in the mirror. She wore a bright pink dress shirt tucked into blue jeans. Her black boots were stylish with silver studs and chains. They matched her tie and suspenders. She had topped off her look with a white sport jacket. Blair smiled as she caught her eye in the mirror and turned to face her.

"You look amazing," they both said at once.

Both women blushed slightly before smiling sheepishly at each other.

"Not exactly what I expected, but dressed down enough for you, I guess," Jo ventured as she eyed her friend up and down. _Wow. She really fills out that sweater. And the tights…_ "I'm afraid you might get a little dirty with all that white, though."

"I'm not worried about that," Blair responded.

 _Probably because she doesn't expect to do any work,_ Jo smirked to herself.

"Are those the boots I gave you last Christmas?" Blair inquired. "I haven't noticed you wearing them before. I thought maybe you didn't like them."

"No, I love them, really Blair. It's just that they're kinda' fancy. I didn't want to wear them just anywhere. I've been saving them for a special occasion. Today's the day!" Jo said proudly.

This was a true statement. Jo had been overwhelmed by such a thoughtful, not to mention expensive, gift. She had noticed them in a shoe store earlier that fall when, after much resistance and against her better judgment, she had been dragged along on a shopping trip with Blair. She had eyed them, felt the supple leather, fingered the shiny studs, picked them up and, noticing the price tag, dropped them on the spot.

When she opened the Christmas present, she was dumbstruck. Blair had been watching her? Blair had noticed someone besides herself on a shopping trip?! Blair knew her shoe size?! Jo had been aware of Blair's capacity for generosity for some time, but this was downright considerate, sweet even. Her gift to Blair had been a bracelet she had made in a leather crafts class she had taken as an elective. _Stupid!_

This gift had crystalized the depths of her feelings for the other woman. She had been deeply touched. As much as she had tried to conceal her emotions, as usual, she was pretty sure Blair had noticed the tears welling in her eyes. The boots were not Blair's style at all. To Jo they represented Blair's appreciation and acceptance of _her_ style. They represented Blair's acceptance of her as a person. No one had ever given her such a thoughtful, not to mention expensive gift. They were way too important to be worn casually.

"I'm so happy you're finally wearing them!" Blair could barely contain her excitement as she beamed at her friend.

"Well," Jo looked at her feet, "I figured if I was going to be hanging out with you today, I better be wearin' something expensive. Wouldn't want to tarnish your rep by looking like a street urchin."

"You look anything but." She moved forward and fingered the lapel of Jo's jacket. "I am, however, concerned about your nice jacket. Not very practical."

"Nah, I'll just take it off, roll up my sleeves and I'm good to go!"

Blair was momentarily captivated by the image and became lost in her thoughts. _Our little Bronx rag-a-muffin: all grown up. She radiates strength, confidence… every inch a woman. She's beautiful. She's…_

"Earth to Blair," Jo's voice shook her from her reverie.

"Oh, sorry, Jo. Daydreaming."

"About what? You were just staring at me."

Blair shrugged and smiled a disarming smile.

"About what a fantastic day it's going to be, Silly. You and me working for the greater good."

"Yeah, about that," Jo cleared her throat. "We better get going. I want to get out of here before the others wake up. Let's take my bike to the campus. We can grab something to eat on the way out. Got a problem with that?"

"My hair's already up and helmet ready!"

"Good to know."

Blair and Jo closed the door to their room quietly. Jo took Blair's hand as she led her gingerly past Nat and Tootie's room.

"Why so stealth?" the blonde inquired out loud.

Jo quickly shushed her as she continued to lead her to the stairs.

"I just don't want to get held up by a million questions, is all," Jo whispered.

Just as they were about to descend, a voice called out from behind them.

"Hey! Where you two going?" Natalie boomed.

The two women froze. Jo gave Blair an irritated look before smiling at Natalie.

"Got a political action on campus this morning, Nat. Blair's coming with me to help out."

"A what?" Tootie yawned as she appeared at Natalie's side still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"A political action," Jo repeated.

"Oh. You mean Gay Weekend?" Natalie beamed.

"Yes. Pride Weekend," Jo corrected. "It's called Pride now."

"Why's Blair with you?" Natalie continued.

"What's Pride Weekend?" Tootie was still yawning.

"Blair is coming to help me set up some booths."

"Dressed like that?" Natalie guffawed.

"Hey," Blair interjected defensively. "My ensemble has the advantage of being practical as well as elegant!"

"Whatever you say," Natalie rolled her eyes. "But since when is Blair Warner interested in gay rights?"

"Since I've come to empathize with the struggles of those who have always felt like outsiders, fighting for basic human acceptance!"

"Well said, Blair," Jo shook her head incredulously. "You're a regular Mother Theresa."

"Who's gay?" Tootie questioned.

"No one's gay," Natalie informed her friend.

Jo straightened up and glared at Natalie.

"As a matter of fact, Nat, many people are gay, right here in good old Peekskill. That's what this weekend is all about: visibility, understanding and acceptance."

"I think celebration should be thrown in there too, Jo," Blair interjected.

"What?" Jo looked at her confused.

"I would think the celebration of diversity, of alternate lifestyles and sexual preferences, should be a big part of what this weekend is about."

"Have you been doing research or something?" Jo asked, stunned.

Blair shrugged, but did not respond.

"I didn't mean that no one is gay," Natalie clarified. "I meant that nobody _here_ is gay."

She suddenly stopped herself.

"I mean, that I know of…"

"What's going on out here?" Mrs. Garrett's head popped out from behind her bedroom door.

"Great," Jo groaned.

"Blair and Jo are going to some gay thing together, Mrs. G," Tootie informed.

"Oh, the Pride Festival," Mrs. Garrett waved them off. "Have a good time girls. I'm going back to bed. I'll be downstairs by nine. Should be a big weekend for _Over Our Heads_!" she said merrily. "But do try and keep it down out here."

As she shut her bedroom door, Jo glared at Nat and Tootie.

"Just go back to bed, the both of ya'."

"Why?" Natalie seemed offended. "What did we do?"

"Blair and I are going to be late. Don't you guys have to work this morning?"

"Yeah, but we'll be off this afternoon," Natalie nodded her head and smiled. "I want to go to Pride Weekend."

"Look," Jo sighed deeply, "it gets going at noon: speakers, bands, booths, concessions. Dance starts at six. All are welcome. Come by whenever you want."

"What? No parade?" Natalie looked confused. "I thought there were always parades on Gay Day."

"We gotta' go," Jo said almost plaintively.

Natalie turned to Tootie.

"No parade. Why don't people tell me these things?"

"What is Pride again?" Tootie could be heard asking as their door closed and Blair and Jo finally made it down the stairs.

"Um, grab some pastries from the kitchen, Blair. I'll pull the bike around. We'll get coffee on the way."

Blair saluted as Jo rolled her eyes.

* * *

"Hey Nat, come here," Tootie called as she looked out the window.

"What are we looking at?" Natalie asked excitedly.

"Blair and Jo. Look. Jo's helping her with her helmet."

"So?"

"I don't know. Something about the way they look. Do you think people will think they're gay today?"

"Why, Tootie, just because they're supporting gay rights? You can support gay rights and not be gay yourself, you know?"

"No. Because, well, Jo's so butch and Blair's so femme."

"First of all, Jo is _not_ butch."

"Uh… she works on motorcycle motors, Nat. Just sayin'."

"Well there is _that_ ," Natalie conceded.

"Besides, next to Blair, at least, Jo is butch," Tootie eyed her friend with a skeptical look.

"Next to Blair, we're all a little butch," Nat smirked. "But where did you come up with this butch/femme stuff anyway? You didn't even know what Pride was?"

"That's because it's a new term for Gay Freedom Day. You didn't know either 'til Jo told you. Besides, I know what Gay Freedom Day is and I know what butch/femme is. I _am_ in the theatre, you know."

The two watched as Jo strapped the helmet beneath Blair's chin. She then knocked on top of the helmet a couple of times as if to make sure it was tight.

"Oooh, this is going to be _trouble!_ Blair's not going to like that," Tootie exclaimed.

The girls watched as Blair punched Jo's shoulder. Jo feigned injury as she grabbed her arm. Blair swatted Jo gently as both women smiled. Jo then fastened her own helmet and climbed on board her bike. Blair mounted behind her and slipped her arms around her waist. Jo reached back and touched her thigh, making sure she was secure.

"They are pretty cute together," Natalie ventured.

"That's all I'm saying," Tootie's eyes lit up. "People might think they're a couple."

"They might at that," Natalie smiled nodding her head. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"What? That Jo and Blair are gay?"

"It would explain so much, Tootie, think about it!"

"Jo _was_ pretty upset with you for not understanding gay rights."

"Hey! I understand gay rights! I just never thought that two of my best friends could be gay!"

"We don't really know that, Nat. We're just speculating, to be truthful."

"But it explains so much," Natalie repeated. "All those fights, the charged energy between them…"

"We're letting our imaginations run away, Nat. Jo and Blair aren't gay."

"Yeah, but wouldn't it be cool?"

"It would be totally weird," Tootie said.

"I think it would be cool: our two big sisters, all grown up and in love! So let's follow them today."

"Why?" Tootie asked.

"To spy on them, duh! Inquiring minds want to know!"

* * *

"You have to get off first, Blair. I can't get off 'til you do."

"I know that, Jo. I think I've been on your bike enough times."

"Then get off already!"

Blair still had her arms wrapped around Jo gripping two lidded cups of coffee in each hand.

"Take the coffee."

"No. Just get off."

"This was a completely unnecessary risk having me try to balance on the back of your bike while holding coffee. Why doesn't this thing have cup holders?"

"It's a Kawasaki, Blair, not a limo."

"It was dangerous. Why didn't you just have me ride side-saddle while you were at it?"

"Aw, quit your griping. It wasn't that bad. It was just a few blocks and I wasn't even going fast."

"It's bad enough I had to hold hot coffee while clinging to you with my elbows and knees on the back of a motorcycle. I'm not going to risk spilling on my outfit while I get off. Take the coffee!"

Jo removed the cups of coffee from the blonde's hands. Blair proceeded to remove her helmet and fluff her hair.

"Knock it off, Blair!" Jo complained.

So focused were the two women on their intricate dance of bickering, they were startled by the voice of another.

"Hey Jo!"

Chris Lowell was tall, slender and attractive with short-cropped hair died David Bowie red. Black eye make-up was applied liberally, yet expertly. Her ears sported several piercings. There was also a delicate ring attached to her lower lip. She wore a black leather jacket with chains over a large striped shirt. Her jeans were clean, but ripped at the knees. She had tucked them into black motorcycle boots. She looked every bit the androgynous rock star.

"Oh, hey, Chris!" Jo replied quickly.

Blair jumped off the back of the bike.

"Ready to get started?" Chris inquired.

"Yeah. Sure!"

"I'm glad you brought your girlfriend. We can use all the help we can get," Chris nodded at Blair.

Blair glared at the young woman.

"Chris?" she questioned. "Christina Lowell?"

A look of recognition crossed Chris's features.

"Blair?"

"Oh my God," Blair exuded as she embraced the taller woman. "I haven't seen you since, since…"

"My debutante ball five years ago," Chris smiled.

"What? Wait a minute," Jo looked completely confused. "You two know each other?"

"Jo, Jo, Jo," Blair smiled at her friend and shook her head. "Don't you know who this is? This is Christina Lowell. Her family is very high society. We go WAY back."

"Yes, Blair, I know who this is. Chris Lowell: president of the gay club here on campus."

"I've had a slightly different coming out party since we last saw each other, Blair," Chris offered.

"You _have_ changed," Blair eyed her up and down appreciatively. "But, I've got to say: it's a good look for you."

"You look pretty good yourself, Blair," Chris nodded as she gave her the once over. "But then, you always did."

Blair positively glowed as she soaked up the praise.

"I'm kind of surprised to see you with Jo," Chris continued.

"Why, because I'm working class?" Jo interrupted. "It's okay, Chris. You can say it. I'm proud of where I come from."

"Maybe she was going to say serious or thoughtful, Jo, if you had given her the chance," Blair scolded. "Why are you always thinking people are looking down on you? You're beautiful, strong, confident…"

"And working class," Jo finished her sentence. "I claim it. And knock it off with the beautiful stuff. I'm no debutante."

"You are definitely an odd couple," Chris interjected. "I never would've expected you two to be together. But, wow, I can really feel the energy between you. You have an amazing vibe. It's electric. Very cool."

Jo smiled sweetly at Chris.

"I think you've got the wrong idea here. Blair and I are _not_ a couple. There are no vibes or energy or electricity or anything else passing between us."

"You could've fooled me," Chris looked at them both skeptically.

"Nah. Blair and I are," Jo looked over to Blair. "Well, we're um…"

"Don't look to me for help," Blair feigned haughtiness. "Perhaps you could use some of your working class practicality to explain our relationship."

Jo turned to Chris with a smirk.

"Definitely not a couple," she said.

"No matter," Chris shrugged. "C'mon, we've got work to do."

* * *

Jo rolled up her sleeves and began hammering and stapling anything that looked like it needed hammering or stapling. Chris had found a different job for Blair. She put her in charge of passing out leaflets that explained the school's guidelines for organized political activities.

" _I knew she'd get out of any actual physical labor,"_ Jo thought. She marveled as she watched Blair work the activists and vendors. She had a smile for everyone. She flirted with men and women alike, despite their appearance or attitude. She seemed to glide through the campus square spreading good will like fairy dust.

 _Not like this place needed anymore fairy dust. Jesus, Blair, how do you do it?_

Each booth she visited, she left with a trail of smiles. Each person wrapped around her little finger. It was amazing to Jo how comfortable Blair had become with the hoi polloi since she had first met her. She had retained her confident, self-assured attitude, but now had extended it out to include the whole of humanity, not just her "circle" of privileged friends.

 _She can really turn on the charm. I should know. She's charmed me enough times. Look at her…_

"OW!" Jo exclaimed as she sent a staple through her thumb. "God dammit!"

"It would help if you kept your mind on the job," Chris offered. "Instead of staring at Blair."

"I was _not_ starin' at Blair," Jo protested.

"Whatever," Chris rolled her eyes.

Blair, who had kept her eye on Jo, as well, came running up.

"Are you alright? That had to hurt!"

"Yeah it hurt, Einstein. Whadda' ya think?"

"Let me see it."

"It's okay, really, Blair," Jo shook her hand vigorously in the air.

"Let me see it," Blair demanded as she grabbed Jo's hand.

"Ouch, be careful," Jo protested.

Blair turned Jo's hand over gently in her own.

"It's bleeding and it's going to swell. We need some ice."

"The first-aid booth isn't set up yet," Chris explained. "But, there's ice over in the dining commons."

"Perfect," Blair declared. "We can get a real breakfast while we're there."

Jo looked to Chris. "Would you mind?"

"Nope. Breakfast is a great idea. I'll join you!"

As they walked to the dining commons, Jo noticed a drop of her blood on Blair's sweater. She opened her mouth to inform her friend, but then thought the better of it. _Don't want to ruin her good mood in front of Chris. I'll tell her later. When we're alone._

Jo wrapped her thumb in ice and the three women chatted amiably over breakfast. After Chris and Blair had finished catching up, the conversation turned to careers and their hopes for the future.

"A lawyer, Blair," Chris nodded approval. "I'm really impressed. What kind of law do you want to practice?"

"I've been researching that and, you know, I'm really drawn to social justice."

Jo's mouth dropped open.

"You are?"

"Yes, Jo, I am."

"So what… you'd work for the ACLU or something?"

"Nothing so grandiose as all that," Blair smiled. "Besides, I wouldn't want to give my father apoplexy! No. I was thinking of representing non-profits and, maybe, start-up businesses. Helping people who help others and those who need a break."

"I didn't know you were thinking that way," Jo looked at her with astonishment.

"That's because you haven't been paying attention. All wrapped up in student government and such. That's one of the reasons I wanted to come today: to meet people, to listen to their concerns and causes. I figure the Warner family has taken enough from others. It's time for one of us to give a little back."

"You're blowing me away, Blondie."

Chris noticed the interchange between them: how they gazed at each other with such familiarity. Despite her animosity towards the upper class, Jo called Blair "Blondie" with genuine affection. Yet, they denied being a couple. _Let's see…_

"You certainly won't have any problem attracting clients," she eyed Blair seductively.

"Oh, Chris," Blair smiled disarmingly as she swatted the other woman's shoulder. "You were always the charmer."

" _Whoa! Wait a minute…"_ Jo thought. _"What was that?"_

She definitely wasn't used to Blair flirting with other women. It bothered her. She felt possessive with an intensity that surprised her. She had to get Blair's attention back on her!

"I'm thinking of being a cop," she blurted out.

Blair turned to her with eyes wide: "No your not!"

"Yep," Jo smiled smugly. "NYPD."

"But, Jo," Blair protested. "You can't!"

"Why not? It's a noble profession, pays well…"

"Well, for one thing, it could put us on opposite sides of the law!"

"Nah. I'd be a good cop. I want to help people, too."

"But it's WAY too dangerous. You could get hurt or, or… I don't even want to think of it!"

"Hey," Jo held up her thumb. "I could get hurt just stapling things on Pride Day here at Langley."

She noticed the blood spot on Blair's sweater again. _Gonna' have to tell her. Damn._

"What happened to being a teacher or social worker? Teaching is an excellent way to contribute to society and help people," Blair looked at her plaintively. "Please don't be a cop, Jo. I couldn't stand it."

"Relax," Jo smiled, feeling self-satisfied. She had provoked the response she had hoped for. "No one's running away to join the circus just yet."

"Speaking of joining the circus," Chris stood up. "I think it's time we got back."

* * *

Blair and Jo manned the information booth with Chris. Occasionally, one or the other would walk through the crowd and checkout the booths. Towards mid afternoon, Chris offered the other two a break.

"Why don't you guys go get something to eat? I can hold down the fort here."

Jo looked at Blair.

"Whadda' ya think? I smelled some wicked sausage and peppers from one of the vendors!"

"You don't have to ask me twice," Blair smiled.

Jo walked to the back of the booth to retrieve something. She came forward with a blanket and proffered it to Blair.

"I didn't want you to stain your nice clothes on the grass," she grinned.

"Oh, Jo, you are so thoughtful sometimes," Blair beamed as she took the blanket.

They spread the blanket on a grass embankment overlooking the square and sat down to eat their meal.

"Better eat carefully," Blair observed. "Sausage and peppers are a _little_ messy. Wouldn't want to spill."

"Um," Jo hesitated for a moment. "There's been something I've been meaning to tell you, Blair. Just been working up the courage."

Blair gazed at Jo expectantly.

"Tell me, Jo. You know you can tell me anything."

"Well, um," Jo cleared her throat, "You see…"

" _Wow! This must be important,"_ Blair thought. _"She's practically stuttering. Is this it? Is this the moment she tells me how she really feels?"_

"When you were helping me with my thumb, some of my blood, um, accidently got on your sweater."

"Oh," Blair was momentarily confused. "That."

"Wait a minute," Jo inquired. "You knew?"

"Yeah. I noticed it when we were eating breakfast. It had already set by then. But, no big deal."

"No big deal? I was dreading telling you!"

"Why? Your thumb is way more important than a silly old sweater."

Jo shook her head.

"I remember a story you told me from when you were little about a perfect white dress, with perfect white gloves and perfect white shoes and your Mom told you not to mess it up," Jo gave her a serious glance. "Well, you kinda' look like that today."

Blair laughed ironically.

"I'm not a little girl anymore. I don't care about being perfect."

"Since when? What happened?"

Blair looked at her friend without smiling. Her demeanor was thoughtful, calm.

"Since I grew up."

"You never stop surprising me," Jo nodded.

They ate their sausage and peppers in silence as they listened to a speaker relate her story about a struggle for acceptance from her strictly religious family.

"Don't you think Chris looks amazing?" Blair broke the silence.

"Um, I never really thought about it," Jo shrugged.

"I mean, the short hair and the rock star make-up. It really works for her. I never thought I'd say this about her, but she looks down-right sexy."

"So, what are you trying to tell me, Blair? That you're attracted to her?"

"No" Blair looked directly at Jo. "Not to _her_."

Jo finished her meal and crumpled the foil wrapper. She leaned back on her arms, her legs propped comfortably in front of her. Blair crumpled her foil and tossed it at Jo. It bounced off her forehead.

"Hey!"

"Hey, yourself," the blonde smiled as she moved leisurely and positioned herself between her friend's legs, her back resting upon Jo's chest.

"Eh," Jo protested weakly, "What are you doing, Blair? I'm not a chaise lounge."

Blair rested her head upon Jo's cheek.

"You kinda' are, right now," she sighed contentedly. "Do you remember that time you punched me in the mouth and then said you didn't have to apologize because God told you to do it?"

Jo shook her head and laughed a little.

"Blair? Why, in the hell, would you bring that up now? I mean, that was years ago. We were in high school, for cryin' out loud."

"I know, but I figure you still owe me. This is part of your reparations."

"What? Being used as a chaise lounge?"

"Yep."

"As I recall, _you_ punched _me_ this morning."

"There was no malicious intent, Jo. Intent is a big part of the law."

"I forgot: future social justice lawyer here."

"Try to keep that in mind."

"You're really something, Blair," Jo sighed. "Listen, I still cringe when I think that I actually hit you. It's something that will never happen again, believe me. I've grown up, too, ya' know?"

"Oh, I _know_ that," Blair responded. "But, then again, that is what all abusers say."

"Don't push it."

They sat quietly for a short while until Blair could feel Jo's chest shaking with laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"You are. Reparations. You crack me up sometimes."

"Glad you find it so amusing."

"You know, I was amazed you didn't go down when I swung on you. I hit you hard."

"Ha! Barely even felt it! It's not easy to take _me_ down!"

"Nope. It's not," Jo said as she tenderly placed a stray strand of golden hair behind Blair's ear.

"I didn't think you'd let me get away with this with just token resistance," Blair said.

"There are worse forms of reparations, I guess."

"We never do this, Jo. We never just sit and _be_ with each other. But, isn't it nice?"

Jo could feel Blair's head resting upon her cheek, her back on her chest. Her legs straddled the other woman. It felt wonderful.

"Yeah, it is nice."

Blair closed her eyes and relaxed into her friend. She felt Jo's breasts pressed into her back, her legs securely bracketing her: _very nice._

"End of argument?" Blair turned her face up to Jo. "I was expecting more from you, Polniaczek!"

"Do you ever wonder why we fight so much?" Jo asked.

"We don't fight, Jo. We bicker."

"Okay fine. Do you ever wonder why we _bicker_ so much?"

"To relieve sexual tension."

 _Did she actually just SAY that?_ Jo felt confused.

"Seriously, Blair. I've been in my fair share of scrapes. But I never enjoyed arguing with someone… until I met you."

"It's like music with us," Blair explained. "We've taken bickering to a deeper level: our own private artform."

Moments passed in silence as the spring sun passed through billowy white clouds. A light wind lifted their hair, mingling blonde with brunette. The speaker had finished and music wafted upon the breeze.

"What are you thinking about?" Jo finally queried.

Blair sighed.

"Nothing, really. I'm just in the moment. The sun feels so nice. The clouds are beautiful. Look, Jo. What an amazing sky! I wish things could always be this peaceful."

"Perfect," Jo agreed.

Blair laughed a little.

"The only perfection I'm ever going to look for again is in moments like these. I don't even care about the scar-thingee anymore."

"Then why'd you bring it up?"

"Just reflecting on how much things have changed, I guess. On how much I've changed."

"I love your scar, Blair," Jo said as she lightly traced the delicate line of imperfection across her friend's forehead.

"Because you think it makes me look tough," Blair smirked.

"It's barely even noticeable anymore. But, I don't know why, Blair, I like that you have it. Gives you character."

"As I suspected. It was a stupid car accident, Jo, not a fencing duel."

"That's what you get for chasing after boys!"

"I think I've learned my lesson."

"How many loved your moments of glad grace, and loved your beauty, with love false or true; but there was one who loved the pilgrim soul in you, and loved the sorrows of your changing face."

Blair turned and faced Jo.

"A poem, Jo? You're reciting poetry?"

"I _do_ take English Lit classes here, ya know?"

"That was so beautiful."

"I can't take credit for it," Jo blushed with a disarming smile. "W.B. Yeats."

Blair eyed Jo with affection. She loved her smile: the shy, self-conscious one that crossed her lips now, the sardonic one that indicated a pointed barb was about to be unleashed, the thousand watt one that could light up an entire ballroom. Blair loved Jo's smile. She fixated on her lips. They were full and soft and beautiful. Before she could stop herself, her fingers gently traced their shape.

"Blair? What are you doing?"

Blair moved in slowly for a kiss. Jo did not back away. Their lips were millimeters apart.

"Hey you guys!" Tootie's cheerful voice surprised them. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, um," Jo jumped up, startled. "Blair was just helping me with something."

"What? With her tongue?" Natalie asked sarcastically.

"Yeah. It looked like you two were going to kiss or something," Tootie chimed in as she surveyed her surroundings. Many couples were cuddling on the grass. "There sure are a lot of public displays of affection going on around here."

Natalie looked around, as well.

"This is certainly something you don't see here very often," she agreed with a huge smile. "Guess you just got caught up in the moment?"

"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that," Jo admonished. "What are you guys doing here anyway?"

"I told you we were coming: Our first Gay Freedom Day," Natalie stated proudly. "New York, San Francisco, Peekskill."

"Yeah. We're really moving up in the world," Jo replied sardonically. "I gotta' get back to relieve Chris. Blair, you coming?"

"You go ahead. I'll show Nat and Tootie around the festival."

"Suit yourself," Jo shrugged.

"See you later?" Blair asked expectantly.

Jo smiled. "Sure."

Natalie noticed the two women exchange a tender glance before they parted company.

"So. What's going on, Blair?"

"Out with it, Natalie. What is it you want to know?"

"I don't know. Is there something I _should_ know?"

"About what?"

"Nothing, Blair," she shrugged as she rolled her eyes at Tootie. "Show us around!"

* * *

Jo sat pensively with Chris in the information booth. She had been sullen and quiet since returning from lunch. Chris decided to try and draw her out.

"So, Blair's changed a lot since I last saw her."

"How so?"

"Social justice? That's not the Blair Warner I knew back in the day."

"She's full of surprises," Jo agreed.

"Is that your influence?"

Jo glanced at her skeptically.

"What? No way. She's just," Jo thought for a moment. "Grown up."

"I'll say," Chris shook her head appreciatively. "When we ran together, I mean, she was always attractive, but now… just wow!"

"I get it," Jo responded in an irritated manner. "She's gorgeous. What else is new?"

"Does she know you're in love with her?"

Jo felt her face become flush. She had asked herself that question many times. But now, being confronted directly by another, she could no longer deny it: to herself or anyone else. It was a truth that her blood whispered, no… not whispered… screamed to her. It was a truth that colored every moment of her day. It had been a part of her for so long, without expression, that she could no longer contain it. She was in love with Blair and she didn't care if the whole world knew.

There was a long silence. Jo tried to will herself to respond.

"I'm sorry," Chris apologized. "It's none of my business. I shouldn't be so presumptuous."

"I don't know," Jo finally sighed. "I mean, I'm not sure if she knows."

"So, you two never talked about it?"

Jo shook her head.

"I'm pretty sure she's in love with you, too."

Jo perked up.

"What makes you say that?"

"Jesus, Jo, she's all over you. Haven't you noticed that? Everything you two have done since you arrived this morning has been all about the other. Thousands of people here and you two can't take your eyes off each other. It's kind of obvious."

"You think so?" Jo smiled hopefully.

"I do," Chris affirmed.

"She did mention something about sexual tension between us earlier."

"Wait a minute. Blair mentioned sexual tension to you and that wasn't a clue?"

"She was going to kiss me, I think, but we got interrupted by some buttinsky friends of ours."

Chris shook her head in disbelief. Jo watched her and suddenly felt like a dunce.

"I guess I'm pretty thick sometimes," she offered.

"Well, not usually, Jo. But when it comes to love, a lot of people are blockheads."

"I just have to be sure, is all," Jo insisted. "I mean, she's Blair Warner, you know?"

"Meaning?"

"She's rich and beautiful and talented and so smart and from an influential family…"

"You're all those things. Well, not rich, but you clean up nice. Don't sell yourself short, Jo. I've seen a lot of girls here checking you out."

"Nah. For real?"

"You're just so wrapped up in Blair that you haven't noticed."

"Look, Chris, I'm hardscrabble Bronx. She's high society."

"So was I."

"Okay. Point taken," Jo nodded. "It's just that no one's ever gotten under my skin like her. She can be vain and conceited and just drive me crazy. And then she'll be generous and kind, considerate and loving: sometimes, it seems, she's all those things at once."

"You've got it pretty bad."

Jo exhaled loudly. She placed her hand on her heart as she gazed at her friend.

"It's maddening," she began as she shook her head slowly, her eyes welling with tears. "But, we've been together for so long. What we have is special. She has my back and I've got hers. I don't want to ruin it all with my feelings, if she doesn't feel the same way."

Chris stared at her.

"She tried to kiss you, Jo. Blair fucking Warner, who never does anything she doesn't want to do, tried to kiss you. Hello?"

Jo blushed and quickly averted her glance. A smile slowly graced her features: as if realizing something for the first time. She looked back to Chris.

"She tried to kiss me."

"So, the only question is: are you ready for this?"

"I think so. It's been this whole process, ya' know? First realizing you have these feelings and having to deal with that."

"Internalized homophobia… I know it well," Chris nodded.

"Then, wanting to do something about it, but not sure if you can. I mean, what will my friends say… my family? Geez, that's going to be rough."

"You can't live for them. It's your life and you deserve to be happy."

"I'm still battling it. I was raised a strict Catholic in a tough neighborhood. Our faith was what helped us survive. It's not a bad thing, ya' know? But, where I come from, people don't do this kind of thing. Somehow though, here today… I dunno'. I feel like it could really happen. That maybe everything could work out."

"You've got to live your truth, Jo."

"I'm beginning to see that."

"Coming out is different for everyone, but we've all been through it. I'll be there for you all the way, if you need a friend."

"I _do_ love Blair and I want to shout it from the rooftops. I've been keeping this in for so long. It feels amazing to be able to talk to someone about it. So, thanks."

"Imagine how it will feel when you talk to _her_ about it?"

"But what if I'm wrong? What about all those boyfriends of hers? What if she's just being provocative to satisfy her own curiosity?"

"She's not."

"Yeah, probably not," Jo smiled shyly. "I just wish I didn't feel so nervous."

"It's a big step," Chris conceded. "But, you better hurry up, Jo Polniaczek. A woman like Blair on a day like today is going to get hit on. If you're not going to tap that, someone else will most certainly try."

Jo felt suddenly anxious. It had been a couple of hours. Where, _the hell,_ was Blair?

* * *

Blair made the round of booths with Natalie and Tootie. It had taken quite some time, as all three were full of questions and chatter. Natalie had flirted with every man she encountered, Blair observed. _"Did I used to be like that?"_ she wondered to herself. She was relieved that neither of the other two had brought up what they had interrupted between her and Jo. She needed to work things out with Jo first, she reasoned, before she could try to explain the situation to anyone else! Finally, they came upon a booth displaying artwork: paintings and leather crafts.

"These are exquisite," Blair remarked as she perused the art.

"Thank you," a voice came from behind her. "So are you."

Blair turned to face an attractive young man with tousled blonde hair, dimples and blue eyes.

"My name is Gary. I'm the artist."

"You're very good," Blair nodded as she took his hand. "Blair Warner. I paint, myself."

"Amazing," Gary smiled. "Beautiful and talented!"

Tootie and Natalie nudged each other.

"Look, Gary was it?" Blair smiled charmingly. "I understand why you are interested."

"Jesus," Natalie blurted to Tootie. "The ego on that woman!"

Blair shot her a look to silence her. Natalie shrugged with her palms up. "What?"

"But I have to stop you," Blair turned back to Gary. "I'm involved with someone."

"Who is he?" Gary demanded.

"That's what I'd like to know!" Natalie looked wide-eyed at Blair.

"I'll fight him for you!" Gary continued dramatically. He paused and looked around at the crowd. "Or her. Is it another girl you're involved with? I'll fight her, too!"

"Can we just talk about your artwork?" Blair was slightly annoyed.

"Sure," Gary gave way. "But you can't fault a guy for trying."

"I'm particularly interested in your leather crafts. Does it take long to create these pieces?"

"We do everything by hand at my studio," he related. "So, yes, it takes time."

"Aren't there machines you can use?" Blair inquired.

"There are, but mainly for bigger pieces and we don't use them anyway. We pride ourselves on handmade crafts! If you're really interested," he continued, "our studio is having an open house today with leather craft demonstrations. You could head on over there and watch for yourself."

"Oh, I'd love to!" Blair stated enthusiastically. She quickly gathered the pertinent information. "Nat, Tootie, c'mon! We're going to an art gallery!"

The other two shrugged at each other. "Okay."

Gary smiled and waved wistfully as they departed.

"God, he's gorgeous," Natalie swooned looking back.

As they walked the few blocks to their destination, her curiosity got the better of her.

"So, Blair, who's this mystery person you're involved with?"

"Oh that," Blair waved her hand nonchalantly. "I just wanted him to quit hitting on me."

"C'mon, Blair, I know you better than that. You are definitely smitten. So… who is it?"

"Jo!" Blair suddenly exclaimed with alarm. "I was supposed to get back to help with the information booth. I totally lost track of time!"

"Were almost there," Tootie complained. "Let's go check out the art gallery and then you can go back."

"Tootie's right," Natalie agreed. "We told Mrs. Garrett that we would help her close up tonight, so we have to drive back to Peekskill. We don't have time to go back to the campus. Let's just do the art gallery and then head our separate ways."

"I just wish there was some way to contact Jo," Blair lamented. "Someone needs to invent a pocket-sized phone so we can talk to each other whenever we want. Now _that's_ something I'd tell my father to invest in!"

"Ha! That'll be the day," Tootie laughed. "Pocket-sized phones… what else: a computer that could fit on your lap? You're such a dreamer, Blair."

* * *

Jo became agitated waiting for Blair to return. Booths were broken down and the campus square was converted into a dance floor with overhead lights and rainbow streamers.

"I wonder what's keeping Blair?" she finally mentioned to Chris. "She should've been back a long time ago."

"Are you getting worried?"

"No. Blair can take care of herself. She's tougher than she looks."

"Okay, then. I'm sure she'll be back soon."

Music began to play over the loud speakers as people crowded the dance floor. Chris noticed that Jo was visibly restless.

"Why don't you go look for her?" she suggested.

"Yeah. Maybe I will. If she shows up here, tell her to wait for me, okay?"

"No problem," Chris smiled. "Go get your girl."

Blair finally made her way back to the campus square.

"Where's Jo?" she inquired of Chris.

"She's off looking for you," Chris gave her friend a knowing look.

"Damn," Blair exclaimed as she dropped into a folding chair beside her.

"So, Joe Polniaczek, huh?"

"She's really something, isn't she Chris?"

"She is at that. You two are pretty lucky to have found each other."

"Is it _that_ obvious?"

"No. I mean, not unless you have eyes," Chris nudged her. They both laughed. "Jo _is_ wonderful. I'm really happy for you, Blair. So what's the hang-up with you two? Why aren't you together already?"

"God, Chris, I've sat in her lap, tried to kiss her, I've literally thrown myself at her. She is either incredibly dense when it comes to matters of the heart, or…" her voice trailed off.

"She doesn't feel the same way?"

"I've got to wonder sometimes."

"She feels the same way, Blair."

"How do you know? Dish, Chrissie, what did she tell you?"

Chris, despite her now radical appearance, was a person of mannered upbringing. Being so, she refused to reveal her conversation with Jo. It would not be polite.

"As previously stated: it's obvious."

"Yeah," Blair smiled confidently. "It is, isn't it?"

"I don't understand why you two don't talk about this."

"Oh, we talk all the time. But, usually we talk around this subject. Our _modus operandi_ is to bicker: teasing and barbs. It's like constant fore play. We used to discuss boyfriends, if you can imagine that!"

"Anything but the truth: been there; done that."

"You know what's funny? It's never even bothered me that Jo is a woman, I mean, that we are both women. From the moment I first knew I loved her, I just accepted it. I kept up the pretense of just being her friend, but not because I was ashamed of my feelings. They were so strong and intense that I figured it would be best to just leave things status quo until I could figure out a way to express them without scaring her off, you know?"

"You think you'd scare her off? Really, Blair?"

"Jo is from a devoutly Catholic family. You've heard her talk about being proud of coming from a working class background? That's all wrapped up in her faith. It's part of who she is. I didn't think she could accept this as easily as I did, so that's why I've been quiet about it. But, I can't do that anymore," she shook her head. "I had a plan for today."

"Do tell," Chris smiled.

"I figured with all these gay people around, it might be the perfect opportunity to broach the subject with Jo, or jump her bones, one or the other."

"One or the other," Chris laughed out loud. "And social justice? Is that just a ploy to get into Jo's pants?"

"Don't be gauche," Blair feigned distaste. "No. I really am interested in helping people. I _do_ want to give back. I've learned so much today. Did you know that trickle down economics is false? It's merely a way for the rich to get richer as we claim to be job creators deserving of special privilege. Meanwhile, we're turning the tax code on its head to favor ourselves!"

"I have heard this theory," Chris acknowledged.

"Not only that, the so called _War on Drugs_ is actually a war on the lower classes. It tells people to _Just Say No_ while not providing any viable opportunities for people living in poverty to better themselves! Also, did you know that President Reagan hasn't even uttered the word _AIDS_ in public yet? And don't get me started on homelessness!"

"Blair Warner! What will your father say?"

"I might have a lot to say to _him_ , if I ever see him again."

"Still distant?"

"Not distant, so much… just absent. But, hey, I remain a good tax shelter! We'll always have that!"

Chris smiled wanly, as she understood all too well.

"Jo Polniaczek," she suddenly conjectured, "Wouldn't she be an excellent way to get your father's attention?"

"It's not about that!" Blair was offended. "My feelings for Jo are the most real thing I have in my life. No one's ever understood me the way she does. For all our verbal sparring, she accepts me for who I am! She doesn't care about my money or status. She cares about me. That is precious to me, Chrissie. I could never lose that. I would just die."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry I mentioned it!"

"Look what she gave to me," Blair said as she retrieved her small, white handbag. She pulled out a delicate, leather bracelet. It was intricately wound with two shades of leather. Two garnets had been fixed in the middle, surrounded by two polished blonde stones.

"She made this for me, Chris. She actually made it with her own two hands. No one has ever given me something handmade before! I don't know if anyone has ever cared enough about me to actually make something for me. I'm used to getting things in a box from Tiffany's or Bergdorf's. But this took time and effort. It's the most amazing gift ever!"

"Why aren't you wearing it?"

"Oh I couldn't! What if I broke it? I just like to take it out and look at it," she replied as she lovingly fingered the leather and stones. "She told me the garnets were for my eyes and the polished stones for my hair. I've never owned anything so, so…"

"Valuable?" Chris finished her sentence.

"Precious," Blair fingered the leather bracelet lovingly.

"I'm really impressed with you, Blair."

"How do you mean?"

"You've grown so much! Your values have changed: handmade gifts, social justice. Much of this is Jo's influence, I suspect."

"There is truth in that, I won't deny it. I can't stand the injustice she has had to face in her life because of the circumstances of her birth. Not to mention the favor we have enjoyed because of the circumstances of ours. It's not right. I want to live in a country that stands for liberty and justice for all, not just the privileged class. How many other Jo's are out there, just needing a little extra help; a hand up?"

"Liberty and justice for all? Who is this blonde goddess?" a woman called out as she hugged Chris. She was tall and slender, and but for the fact that her hair was jet black, instead of red, looked remarkably like her friend. Two shorter, stockier women dressed in flannel shirts, jeans and army boots accompanied her.

"Blair, I would like you to meet my friend, Connie, and…" Chris looked to Connie for an introduction of the other two women.

"Slade and Marie," Connie nodded to her friends.

"Pleased to meet you," Blair smiled as she shook Slade and Marie's hands.

" _Enchanté,"_ Connie lifted Blair's hand and kissed it. "Where have you been hiding this one, Chris?"

"She's an old friend, Connie."

"You are the best thing I've seen all day… Blair, was it? A vision in white!"

Blair smiled charmingly. She _did_ like compliments. She went to flip her hair before remembering she had swept it up to accommodate Jo's helmet.

"Shall we trip the light fantastic, Blair? I mean," Connie glanced at Chris. "If you're not already spoken for."

Chris raised her hands and shook her head.

"Not by me," she replied. "But…"

* * *

Jo finally spotted Blair across the dance floor. She was chatting with a group of people that included Chris. She was smiling and laughing: charming as usual, completely at ease. _She floats on air._ As Jo approached her from across the floor, a woman moved close to Blair. She whispered something in her ear. Blair smiled and lifted an eyebrow. The woman was clad in leather and denim and had a look similar to Chris. It was a look that Blair had admitted she found sexy earlier that day, Jo remembered. She quickened her pace as she watched the woman place a hand on Blair's arm.

"So, you still haven't answered me. Shall we dance?" Connie asked.

Blair wasn't sure what to do as she gazed at the beautiful woman before her. Should she dance with her? She had never been asked by another woman to dance, at least not in this context. Not in a romantic sort of way. It was new. It was intriguing. But, she knew just exactly with whom she wanted to dance and Connie, as beautiful as she was, was a poor substitute.

"Well, I…" she began.

"C'mon, Blair," Connie moved closer to her.

"Um," Jo interrupted as she gripped Blair's elbow. "She's with me."

Blair felt a jolt of electricity course through her body at Jo's touch. A huge smile graced her features.

"I'm with her," she shrugged apologetically to Connie.

She beamed at Jo as she held both her hands in her own.

"Wanna' dance?" Jo returned her smile.

"Well, since you asked so charmingly, how could I resist?"

Blair grabbed Jo's hand and led her to the dance floor as Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time" began to play. They swayed gently to the music. Blair had her hands on Jo's waist. Jo's hands were on Blair's shoulder.

"Um, Blair?"

"Yes, Jo?"

"You're leading."

"Of course I am. I'm a Warner. I was born to lead. Besides, I wear the pants in this relationship. Well, not literally, but figuratively. You know that."

"Ha!" Jo scoffed as she moved her hands to Blair's waist. "In your dreams."

Blair repositioned her arms around Jo's shoulders and neck: "Happy now?"

"You know I like to drive," Jo responded. "So, were you going to dance with that girl?"

"Why? Jealous?"

"Me? Of course not," Jo dissembled. "It's just that she had her hands on you and was whispering in your ear. Looked pretty intimate."

"You are jealous!"

"Well, maybe, a little," Jo relented.

"You know what that means, don't you?"

"I'm pretty sure you're going to tell me."

"You're attracted to me."

Jo felt powerless to deny it.

"We need to talk, Blair."

"I think we've talked enough, Jo."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning… I'm going to kiss you now."

Jo gave her a shy smile, unsure of how to respond. "Really?" she finally whispered.

"Really," Blair breathed huskily as she moved in close and brushed her friend's lips gently with her own. She opened her eyes long enough to exchange a charged look with Jo.

"Was that okay?" she asked a little nervously.

Her answer was in the form of Jo moving in close for another kiss. She pressed her lips against her, but this time it was not gentle. It was a long, heated, passionate kiss. After some moments, they finally disengaged.

"That was, ah, ah…" Jo's words failed her.

"Intense," Blair finished her sentence. "I've wanted to kiss you forever. It was amazing."

"Yeah," Jo gazed into her eyes lovingly. "It was. How did I get so lucky?"

"I'm the lucky one."

"I don't know what to do next, Blair. I, um…" Jo stuttered.

Blair whispered into her ear. "Next, Joanna Marie Polniaczek, we are going to make mad, passionate love all night long."

Jo went momentarily week in the knees. Blair placed her hand on her back to steady her.

"Jesus, Blair. I've never seen this side of you before."

"No one has. It belongs exclusively to you. God, I want you so bad, Jo. I've waited so long for this moment."

She ran a hand discreetly up Jo's side, glancing her breast, before returning it to the other woman's shoulder.

"People will see us," Jo protested softly.

Blair looked her in the eyes with a self-satisfied smirk upon her face. "Look around us, Jo. I don't think anyone here is going to notice, much less care."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Jo agreed as she perused the many same sex couples dancing.

"I'm always right. Even when I'm wrong, I'm right!"

Jo shook her head and smiled wryly. "Just shut up and hold me, Blair."

"Less talk, more touching. I think I can accommodate that."

Blair leaned into Jo as they drifted slowly to the music. She rested her head on her shoulder, lips close to her ear.

"You take my breath away," she exhaled.

The music stopped, but they didn't. The feeling of Blair's head on her shoulder, their arms wrapped around each other, felt so incredibly wonderful to Jo, she didn't want it to end.

"Um, the song's over," she finally stated softly.

"It's okay. Another one will start."

As if on cue, Madonna's "Crazy For You" began to play.

"I'm crazy for you," Jo sang along.

"Touch me once and you'll know it's true," Blair joined her.

"I never wanted anyone like this," they smiled at each other as they sang along together. "It's all brand new, you'll feel it in my kiss… I'm crazy for you."

They kissed again.

"We need to get out of here, Blair," Jo sighed huskily. "I think I might explode if I have to wait another second to be alone with you."

"No way, Jo! I've waited a long time to dance with you. You're not getting away that easy!"

Jo eyed her as she bit her lower lip.

"But, Blair," she protested gently, "there are _other_ things we've waited a long time to do."

"Let's dance just a few. Prolong the expectation," Blair suggested as she lifted an eyebrow provocatively. Jo felt as though she might melt right then and there.

"Relax" by Frankie Goes to Hollywood began to play.

"Oh, I love this song!" Blair exclaimed. She began to rock out, dancing sensually around Jo, who eyed her in wonderment.

"Just watch me and move your hips like mine," Blair suggested.

Jo did as she was told. She was mesmerized by Blair's gyrations and followed along as best she could. Three more dance songs blasted out as Blair continued to pull Jo into her sensual whirlwind: at times picking up her hand and twirling beneath her, at times bumping her hip or crotch against her.

"I need a drink," Jo sputtered at last.

"Good idea!" Blair enthused. "Isn't this fun?" she lifted an eyebrow.

"Wow, you two were really tearing it up out there," Chris smiled knowingly at them as they returned.

"I'll say," Natalie's voice came from behind Chris. "Blair, who knew you were such a whirling dervish on the dance floor?!"

"I have many skills."

"Oh, um… Hi, Nat," Jo said nervously. "How long have you been here?"

"We just got back," Tootie informed. "Had to help Mrs. G. close up."

"So, dancing together," Natalie shook her head in approval. "Dancing together is nice." She gave Tootie a sly look.

"Well, It's better than fighting," Tootie acknowledged.

"Oh, I dunno'," Natalie mused. "I kind of like their fights."

"We don't fight!" Blair and Jo protested at once. They looked at each other and exchanged a grin.

"We bicker," Jo corrected.

"So, obviously, some good friends here," Chris interjected.

"Oh, Chris, how rude of me!" Blair apologized. "Chris Lowell this is Natalie Green and Tootie Ramsey: two of my dearest friends."

"Two of _our_ dearest friends," Jo amended.

"Yes. Our friends," Blair emphasized the word _our_ as she and Jo unconsciously linked hands, fingers intertwined together.

Natalie's eyes grew wide as she elbowed Tootie and inclined her head towards Jo and Blair's interlinked digits.

"Nice to meet you both," Chris extended her hand.

"The pleasure's ours," Natalie smiled broadly as she grabbed Chris's hand and shook it vigorously.

"Nice to meet you," Tootie smiled.

"Chris is the president of the Gay Club here on campus," Jo explained. "She was instrumental in setting this all up."

"So we have you to thank!" Natalie enthused. "Today was so great!"

"It was a group effort," Chris demurred.

"So what did you guys do today anyway?" Jo asked glaring at Blair. "You were gone for hours."

"We met all these wonderful people. So many causes, so little time!" Natalie explained.

"Then Blair took us to an art show," Tootie added.

"Blair took you to an art show?" Jo questioned.

"Yeah," Tootie continued. "We met this cute guy who had a booth with his paintings and leatherwork. He told us where his gallery was. Said there was a demonstration on leather crafts going on, so we went."

"A cute guy?" Jo scowled at Blair as she squeezed her hand tight.

"Ow! Knock it off," Blair complained. "You know I love art. Quit being silly."

"Never knew you to be interested in leather crafts," Jo huffed.

"You have no idea," Blair sighed. "I'll explain later," she whispered into Jo's ear.

"Anyway," Tootie started up again, irritated at being interrupted. "Then me and Natalie went back to help Mrs. Garrett. We promised we'd help her. It was SO busy today, she could barely spare us for a couple hours."

"And now we're back!" Natalie beamed. "I want to find that dreamy guy who was at that Boycott Sun City booth!"

"A lot of guys are gay here, Nat," Tootie admonished.

"He wasn't," Natalie smiled wickedly.

"Look, I've got a boyfriend, Nat. I'm not interested in hooking up here," Tootie stated adamantly.

"Hey, like you said, most of these guys are gay. No harm, no foul, right? And the great thing is, you can dance with the women, too! Worked for Blair and Jo!"

"Hey!" Jo warned.

Natalie shrugged. "Just sayin'."

"Maybe we should get back to check on Mrs. G.," Jo nodded at Blair.

"Oh, she went out tonight," Tootie's face lit up. "She actually had a dinner date! That's why she wanted us to come back to help her out."

"Yeah," Natalie smiled smugly. "The place is empty if you guys want to go home and unwind."

"I think we might," Jo said intimidatingly.

"Good! Then I think _we're_ going to dance!" Natalie matched her menacing tone.

"Down, girls," Blair interceded. "This is a celebration. No need to come to blows."

"Nah, we're just kidding, right Jo?" Natalie nudged her.

Jo smiled begrudgingly. "Right, Nat."

"C'mon, Tootie, the night is still young!" Natalie gently ushered Tootie in the general direction of where the Sun City booth had been. "We'll be late," she called over her shoulder as they made their way through the crowd. "Don't wait up for us!"

"Oh we won't," Blair gave Jo her most seductive _come hither_ look.

"So, uh, Chris," Jo was blushing furiously. "I think Blair and I are going to take off now, if that's okay with you."

"If you don't, I _will_ kill you both," Chris glared at them imperiously.

"Thanks for everything," Jo hugged her.

Blair stepped in and hugged Chris, as well. "Yes. Thank you, Chrissie. It was so good to reconnect with you. You're an absolute doll!" Blair stepped back and gave her the once over. "And so beguiling these days!"

" _Blair?_ " Jo gave her a scolding look.

"Get out of here, already," Chris smiled.

Blair and Jo gathered their belongings, joined hands and walked into the night. Chris could here their voices as they disappeared.

"Ya' just can't help yourself can you, Blair?"

"What? She looks great, doesn't she?"

"You'd flirt with a lamp post if it blinked at you!"

"I don't flirt anymore. I'm not a teenager."

"Excuse me? There's a whole section in the encyclopedia dedicated to flirting. Your picture is next to it."

"Yeah, well there's a whole section dedicated to boorishness. _Your_ picture is there!"

"Ow! Knock it off, Blair!"

"Ow! You knock it off!"

Chris shook her head. She could hear them laughing as their voices trailed off.

"Love."


	2. The Morning After the Night Before

Blair slid the key in the lock and opened the door.

"Hello? Is anyone here? Mrs. G., anyone?" she called out brightly.

Jo followed behind her, closing the door. Blair looked at her wide-eyed.

"Looks like we're really alone!"

"Thank God," Jo exhaled.

The two women stood transfixed, each enthralled by the moment, each enthralled with the other. Then, as if of a collective mind, they flew up the stairs and into their bedroom. They kissed passionately as clothes were tossed helter-skelter in a flurry.

"Wait!" Jo exclaimed loudly.

"What?" Blair cried out suddenly alarmed. She stood in only her bra and panties, her hair now loose about her shoulders.

"Lock the door," Jo nodded.

"Oh, right," Blair grinned and shook her head. She quickly fastened the latch and turned back to Jo, who was clad in nothing but her pink dress shirt. "You are so sexy."

Jo eyed Blair up and down. She had seen her in her underwear before. Hell, she'd seen her naked before. Blair had never had any false modesty where her body was concerned. She was completely comfortable with nudity. It used to bother Jo that she would walk out of the bathroom without a stitch on. How could a person just do that? At first it had bothered her because, despite the constant barbs they hurled at each other, it had aroused her. Later it bothered her because she had fallen in love… and it aroused her! But, somehow, she looked very different now. Her body was voluptuous, sensual. Her skin was perfect: everything about her seemed to sparkle and glow. _She does glisten._

"You are beautiful," Jo responded softly.

"So, Jo, do you still have your undies on?"

"Yesss," Jo drew out.

"Take them off."

Jo pulled her underpants down and let them fall to the floor. She stepped out of them.

"Oh God, that turns me on," Blair breathed lustily. "Lift up your shirt. Let me look at you."

"Huh?"

"Pull up your shirt. I want to look at you."

Jo lifted her shirt, exposing herself to Blair's riveted gaze. She found this to be an amazingly erotic experience. _Jeez, if it feels this good just having her look at me, what's it going to feel like when she actually touches me?_ She didn't have to wait long to find out. Blair slipped out of her bra and panties. _Oh God._ She approached her with a naughty grin and slid her hand between Jo's legs, gently fingering her.

"You are so wet," she nibbled Jo's earlobe.

"Oh God…" Jo's head drifted back as she bucked forward and exhaled deeply. The feeling of Blair's fingers, touching her there, was almost overwhelming. She thought she might explode on the spot. "Fuck me, Blair."

Blair quickly parted Jo from her remaining clothes and pushed her down onto her bed. She climbed on top of her and began kissing her mouth, her neck, her nipples, as her hands ran all over her body. Jo moaned and moved receptively beneath her.

"Blair, wait," Jo called out.

"What?" Blair gave her a look as if to say _seriously?_

"The lights."

"You want to do this in the dark?" Blair questioned.

"No. It's just too bright, ya' know. I'd like it more romantic."

"I can fix that," Blair said as she hopped up and grabbed a purple scarf from the closet. She dropped it over the desk lamp and turned the overhead light off, bathing the room in a violet glow. "Better?"

"Much," Jo smiled. "You've got a knack for this."

"You have no idea," Blair lifted an eyebrow and climbed back on top of her, kissing her lips, her neck, her ear, fondling her breasts.

"Blair?"

"What?" Blair was becoming exasperated.

"There's something I need you to know."

Blair rolled off Jo and propped herself up on her elbow beside her.

"What is it, Jo?"

"I'm in love with you. I just need you to know that before we, um… have sexual relations."

Blair smiled. "Oh Jo, you are so sweet. I'm in love with you, too. Have been for some time now." She gazed at her adoringly. "You are the most important person in my life."

"There's one other thing I want you to know."

"What's that, my love?"

"I've never done this before. You're my first."

"Just when I thought I couldn't love you more," Blair sighed.

"It's just that I don't know if I'll be any good at this. I'm not sure I can please you."

"Oh, you already please me," Blair eyed Jo's naked body as she began tracing her finger in feather touches over her nipples.

"I'm afraid I won't know what to do," Jo whispered.

"I don't have any experience with this either, Jo. I just want to…" her voice trailed off as she took a nipple into her mouth and ran her hand down the length of Jo's torso to her center. Jo's body rose up as her eyes fluttered back.

"Oh God, Blair," she exhaled.

"We'll figure it out," Blair managed as she continued her sensual assault.

… And so they did.

* * *

"What time is it?" Jo was wrapped up in Blair's arms, her head pressed firmly into the other woman's naked breasts, completely satiated.

"Who cares?" Blair kissed her head "I kind of lost track of time. I just want to keep making you happy. I want to see how many times I can make you happy."

"I like that idea," Jo sighed.

"That's the great thing about being with another woman, I guess."

"What is?" Jo asked.

"That we can keep going _all… night… long_ ," Blair drew out.

"Jesus, Blair, you're an animal!"

"Mmm-hmm," she tilted Jo's head up for another kiss.

"Did you hear something?" Jo was suddenly startled.

"I don't know. You think someone's home? Oh, turn out the light, Jo! I don't want to be interrupted. Let's make them think we're asleep."

Jo complied as she walked across the bedroom floor and twisted the desktop lamp off. The room was suddenly awash in moonlight from the window.

"Wow… I didn't even realize there was a full moon tonight," Jo stared at Blair's naked body, only lit by the light of the moon. "You're beautiful in any light."

"Get over here," Blair demanded. "I miss you!"

Jo snuggled in beside her. "Um, Blair?"

"Um, yes?"

"You told me you'd explain about why you were gone for so long today: the cute guy? The art show?"

"Oh, that."

"Yeah… that."

"Remember the bracelet you gave to me last Christmas?"

"The one you never wear?"

Blair leapt up and retrieved the bracelet.

"I love this bracelet, Jo. When you told me that the garnets were for my eyes; the polished stones… my hair: I just melted. It meant so much to me."

"Then why don't you wear it?"

"I've been afraid of breaking it. Up until now, it was all I had of you that showed your love. It was too important."

"Give me that bracelet," Jo demanded. She gently fastened it to Blair's wrist.

"Blair Warner," she looked her in the eyes. "Wear this as a token of my love. You're my girl, now."

"Oh, Jo…" Blair beamed, but had no words.

"So, that still doesn't explain why you were gone for so long today."

"Maybe this will." Blair pressed something into Jo's hand.

Jo opened her hand and saw a slender, delicately crafted leather bracelet resting in her palm.

"You made this today?"

"It's not very good. It was my first try at leatherwork. It's actually a fairly complicated craft. I'm much better at painting," Blair felt embarrassed at the meagerness of her offering.

Jo looked at her with a gaze of absolute and total love. "It's beautiful, Blair," she managed as her eyes filled with tears.

"I would have placed an emerald for your eyes, if I'd had more time."

Jo shook her head. "No, Blair. This is perfect."

Blair fastened it around Jo's wrist. "Then, I guess you're mine, as well."

Jo looked at her, eyes brimming with tears. "I am."

She kissed her with a renewed passion as they made love under the moonlight.

"Now I heard something, for sure," Jo whispered.

"Yeah. Sounds like Nat and Tootie are home."

"Not the most quite people in the world," Jo sighed.

They listened to the bumps, knocks, muffled conversation and laughter from the other room.

"Maybe we should get our own place," Jo suggested.

"I can make that happen tomorrow," Blair stated matter-of -factly.

"You could," Jo frowned.

"Don't start," Blair lamented.

"No. We have to talk about it," Jo insisted. "There's a huge disparity in our circumstances. You could get a new place tomorrow: two stories with a fireplace and dining room downstairs and a bedroom with a view upstairs."

"Sounds lovely," Blair yawned as she closed her eyes.

"Blair, I couldn't get a spare room off a mechanic's garage tomorrow."

"More hyperbole, Jo. I'm sure you could get a nice apartment in town if you applied."

"I've got no money… how would that happen?"

Blair, feeling drowsy, replied in the worst possible manner: "I'd buy it for you, of course." She immediately recognized her mistake as her eyes flew open.

"You'd what?" Jo's voice was suddenly tense. "You can't say things like that, Blair."

Blair was angry at herself. _I've pushed the one button with Jo I didn't want to push!_ Jo's fierce pride was one of the things she admired most about her. It was also one of the things that worried her most. Jo's pride was beyond reason. She was so fiercely dedicated to the proposition that her parents were not destitute, that it sometimes almost seemed to warp her personality. She claimed not to be ashamed of the fact that her parents were of modest means, but went to great lengths to deny the extent of it. She went so far as to not request emergency assistance from the college when she lost her student housing, because it would have meant admitting how poor her parents really were. Instead, Blair remembered very vividly, she crashed on the floor of her dorm room until they both got hauled in front of the Dean of Students! Her guarded position of her parent's impoverished state had become downright debilitating. Any suggestion of help was summarily rejected. It was as if it was a rejection of her parents and upbringing completely. For all her proclamations of being proud of her working class background, her skin was extremely thin on this issue. It was her worst vulnerability. Any hint that she couldn't afford things, was poison.

"I only meant that I want you to be happy," she tried to minimize the damage.

"That you can buy me stuff? That you can buy me?"

Blair exhaled loudly. She sat up and pressed Jo's hand to her lips.

"I absolutely respect who you are. I would never try to buy you. I would give up everything, and I mean _everything_ , to be with you. I don't care about my father's money. After law school, I intend to make my own way."

"You don't get it, Blair. Most people don't have the option of which law school to pick. They're too busy just trying to make ends meet."

"I do get it, Jo! But, I'm not going to apologize for having the means to attend postgraduate school. Listen, I can't change the circumstances of my birth any more than you can. But just knowing you has changed me so much. I really _do_ want to make a difference. I really _do_ want to pay back, help people who need it."

"People like me."

"Cut me a break, Jo. I didn't mean it in a bad way, but as a matter of fact, yes."

"Or we could just have another revolution," Jo smirked. "Throw all you rich folks out on your ass!"

"Tonight has been the most wonderful night of my life. Let's not ruin it by arguing over money. I'm yours; your mine… remember?" Blair fondled the small bracelet on Jo's wrist. "We'll work it out, okay?"

"Yeah," Jo relaxed her posture. "I don't want to fight, either."

"So… will there be food at the revolution?" Blair teased.

"Hungry?"

"Ravenous!"

"I don't hear anyone. I think they've all gone to bed," Jo conjectured.

"Which means you can sneak downstairs and grab us the left over pizza from last night!" Blair smiled assuredly.

"Why do _I_ have to sneak downstairs?"

Blair's answer was a lifted eyebrow.

Jo sighed and shook her head, understanding completely. "Anything else you want while I'm down there?"

"Well, since you mentioned it, I left a bottle of Montrachet on the counter. Bring up two glasses with it."

"Is that all?"

"No. There's a little bit of ice cream left in the freezer."

"Geez, Blair, really?"

"There is one other thing."

"I wait with baited breath."

"Clothes?"

Jo glanced down at herself, completely naked.

"Good catch, Blair," she grinned. She pulled on her pajama top.

* * *

"Okay, so there's the bottle of wine," Jo was talking to herself as she perused the kitchen. She opened the freezer and pulled out the ice cream. The leftover pizza was wrapped in aluminum foil. She pulled it from the refrigerator and placed it next to the ice cream. "Now, just got to get some glasses and spoons," she continued her self-talk. She had gathered everything precariously in her arms and was about to make her way back up the stairs to Blair when a voice surprised her from behind.

"Hey, Jo!"

Startled, she dropped the wine glasses, which shattered upon the floor. The ice cream landed on top of their sad remains with the spoons tumbling after. Jo held firmly to the pizza and bottle of wine.

"What-the-hell, Nat?! Didn't I already warn you about sneaking up on people?"

"What are you doing?"

"Working on my speech for the Noble Peace Prize, what are you doing?"

"Couldn't sleep," Natalie sighed dramatically. "I'm in love."

Jo grabbed some paper towels to scoop up the broken wine glasses.

"You can't be in love with someone you just met tonight," she admonished Natalie as she tossed the glass shards into the trash.

"But, I am Jo! I thought I was going to be interested in the Sun City guy, but then the Amnesty International guy just swept me off my feet!" Natalie swooned with a dreamy look upon her face. "We danced and danced…"

"Speaking of being swept away, I could use some help, Nat," Jo said as she used the broom to gather the rest of the glass. Natalie held the dustpan as Jo swept glass into it.

"He's everything, Jo."

"No he's not. He's just your boy _du jour_. You have to get more serious about your relationships."

"Look who's talking, Little Miss Hickey," Natalie huffed.

"What?"

"You have a tiny, little hickey right there," Natalie pointed to Jo's slightly open pajama top. "Right next to your collarbone."

"No I don't!" Jo pulled her nightshirt up around her neck.

"Who could've given you that?" Natalie continued in a singsong voice. "Someone you've been in a long, deep relationship with? Give me a break!"

"You have no idea," Jo murmured under her breath.

"Hey! Wait a minute!" Natalie slapped her palm against her head. "Two glasses, two spoons… you're going back upstairs to your room with Blair!"

"Mind your own business, Nat. I just came down here to get some food for, um…"

"Blair? Oh my God, Jo. You two are having sex! I told Tootie you and Blair were a couple! She is going to be SO hearing _I told you so_ from me!"

"Whoa there, Nat. Don't jump to any unwarranted conclusions based upon supposition."

"Oh my God, you even talk like her now!"

Jo hung her head. She exhaled heavily. _No more denying._ She looked her friend in the eyes.

"Okay," she conceded. "I'm in love with Blair. She's in love with me. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic!" Natalie hugged her. "You two were always so right for each other. What took you so long?"

"Um, homophobia, classism, patriarchy… shall I continue?"

"It _is_ tougher for two women together," Natalie conceded as she nodded thoughtfully.

"Ya' think?"

"Sit down, Jo. I want to hear all about it."

"So what's all this business about us being right for each other? You _always_ thought that?"

"Well, yeah, I mean since this morning. I guess it was the whole Gay Day thing. It all of a sudden occurred to me. I guess I never thought about it before, never having been exposed to gay culture. How do you know what you don't know, you know?" Natalie shrugged. "That didn't make any sense, did it?"

"No, you're right. I totally get it! It's like this door opened up onto a new world and this light came streaming through and now I'm surrounded by warmth and love and a comfort I never knew existed." Jo turned reflective for a moment. "I didn't even know I was in darkness."

"Wow. That is _so_ deep. I've never heard you talk like this… downright poetic, Jo. Tell me more!"

"It was like I was living in a fog, you know? A miasma where nothing was real, only shadows, because I was denying who I was, how I felt."

"Miasma… good word. I'm going to use that!"

"So, now I'm, I dunno', clear, I guess" Jo stated as she eyed her friend. "This isn't freaking you out, at all?"

"It is a _little_ weird. You know that I've always looked up to you and Blair, right? Both me and Tootie. You guys were always just so cool: like the coolest big sisters ever. And your fights," Natalie held a hand up to stop Jo from correcting her. "You're bickering," she amended, "so epic: scathing and intense, yet somehow, still highly amusing. It just seemed like there was more to it: sexual tension?"

"That would be Blair's theory."

"I always thought so," Natalie nodded.

"No you didn't!" Jo grinned sardonically. "It didn't even occur to you that we could be in love until this morning."

"Okay, well, that's true. I have to admit that. It was just that there was always something between you two that remained… unspoken."

"It's been spoken now and we ain't going back."

"You know, I've always wanted to be like you guys, except for the gay thing now, obviously. But, if only I could be that cool," Natalie drifted off into space momentarily. "I still feel that way."

"Thanks, Nat. That means a lot."

"It is kind of ironic, though."

"How so?"

"Remember when I had a thing for Tootie's cousin?"

"Yep," Jo felt chagrined by the memory.

"You tried to wave me off; said it was too dangerous. Well this? _This_ is dangerous."

"Yeah. Sorry about that, Nat. I was wrong. My advice was wrong. I know that now."

"You were just trying to look out for me. It's okay. But, now I'm worried for you and Blair."

"This wouldn't play well in my old neighborhood. That's for sure. But, I just love her, Nat… you know?

"So how long have you known that you were in love with her?"

"I think, deep down, I've always known."

"Wow! Fascinating! I could talk about this all night!"

"Um… she's kinda' waiting for me, ya know?"

"Oh. OH! I'm so sorry! You two are having a romantic evening. That's so, so… um, well, romantic! I couldn't be happier for you Jo, for you and Blair. I can't wait to tell Tootie!"

"Go ahead. I know you can't keep anything from her."

"Just wow… you and Blair! And I thought _I_ had a good night!"

"It's still kind of a private thing, okay Nat?"

"Oh, of course!," Natalie shook her head adamantly. "I am the soul of discretion."

"Good to know," Jo shook her head. "Can you hand me some clean spoons?"

"For you and Blair? Anything!"

"I've got to finish cleaning up here," Jo sighed.

"Don't even think of it," Natalie waved her off. "I'll clean up. You go back to Blair," she winked.

Jo smiled a perplexed smile, not knowing exactly how she felt about having come out to her housemate. "Okay. Thanks," she finally said. Before heading upstairs to Blair, she gave a glance back at Natalie. "If you repeat any of the mushy stuff I said…" she began.

"I know, I know, I'm dead," Natalie shook her head and smiled.

* * *

"What took you so long?" Blair complained as Jo entered the room.

"Wait for it," Jo shook her head as she placed the pizza, wine and ice cream on the night stand. She slipped back into bed next to Blair. They could hear Natalie bounding up the stairs and shutting her bedroom door loudly. There was a sudden explosion of muffled voices from the room next door.

"WHAT?!" They heard Tootie call out.

"Nat and Tootie know," Jo explained.

"But how, Jo?"

Jo pointed at a place just below her neck. "Love bite much, Blair?"

"I can't help it if I'm passionate," Blair said defensively.

"Yeah, Nat was downstairs. She figured it out."

"Shit!"

"My sentiments exactly," Jo agreed. "Not how I wanted it to come out, you know?"

"This means we'll have to tell Mrs. Garrett… like tomorrow!"

"Yep."

"Shit!"

"This is the first time I've heard you give two shits, Blair."

"Oh, shut up."

"What?"

"I meant to say: Oh shut up _, sweetheart_."

"Better."

They were both silent for a second. Blair reached for the ice cream. She offered Jo the first taste.

"Blair?'

"Jo?"

"Could you really get us a place of our own with a fireplace and a view?"

"Say the word and it's done."

"It's worth investigating. I mean, I love Mrs. Garrett and Nat and Tootie and all, but I want to start living on my own, on our own. There is zero privacy here."

"Right? I want to be free to walk around naked, if I want," Blair let the spoon linger on her lips before she drew the ice cream off.

"Um, you already do that."

"I was wondering if you noticed. I was doing it for you," she said as she spoon-fed ice cream into her lover's mouth.

"You were?" Jo placed her mouth around the spoon.

"I've wanted you for a long time," Blair resumed eating.

"So… you were _trying_ to turn me on?" Jo opened her mouth as another spoonful of mocha almond chip was placed delicately inside.

"I have been trying to get your attention since we graduated high school," Blair sucked on the spoon, licking off the last of the frozen confection.

"I'm just glad all the pretenses of boyfriends and irritating each other is over," Jo acknowledged as Blair fed her a bite of cold pizza.

"Jo?"

"Yes, Blair?"

"You _do_ irritate me, that's not a pretense."

"But in a good way, right?'

"The best…" Blair proffered the pizza to Jo again.

"I love you so much, Blair, and have, in retrospect, since the moment we met. I had never seen anything like you. You were almost, literally, golden.

"I'm just so happy we finally admitted our feelings. I'm over the moon, Jo!"

"Yeah, me too," Jo smiled a sheepish grin. "Blair, I want to get our own place together. I mean, last year of college, I may need you walking around naked when I get home to, um… relieve the tension, if you catch my drift."

"That makes me so happy! I promise not to let the differences in our circumstances affect us." Blair held Jo in a tight embrace. In a night filled with revelations and joy, Jo's willingness to allow Blair to help financially, was perhaps the most surprising turn of events, yet. "I don't ever want you to compromise your principles. I love you for who you are. I completely respect your need for autonomy and your pride!"

"Says the woman who just spoon-fed me!"

They both laughed out loud before quickly shushing each other.

"Do you mind that Natalie and Tootie know?" Jo whispered.

"Of course not," Blair whispered back. "I want them to know. I just wish we could've picked a better way for them to find out."

"Nat kind of indicated that they knew anyway."

"How? We hadn't even admitted it to each other until tonight?"

"Something about how we are perfect for each other, I dunno'."

"Chris kinda' saw the same thing, too."

"She is really something, isn't she Blair?"

"She's amazing. When we hung out together back in the day, everything was totally different. Both of us were spoiled, vain brats."

"Or maybe you were just frightened little gay girls trying to cover?"

"Very perceptive, Ms. Polniaczek."

Jo yawned and reached for the nightstand. "Well, believe it or not, there is not only food and ice cream for the children of the revolution, but wine! No wine glasses, however. We'll have to drink straight from the bottle."

"Oh my God, Jo. That's a $600 bottle of wine! We can't drink it like that!"

"You paid $600 for a bottle of wine?"

"Yeah," Blair looked confused by the question. "So?"

"Blair, you shouldn't leave $600 bottles of wine sitting around on the kitchen counter."

"Why ever not?"

"Because I almost dropped it on the floor, for one thing! Rich people, you're all a little crazy," Jo shook her head. "Well, I got no glasses, so if you want a drink, it's straight from the bottle."

"Barbarian…"

"Brat…"

* * *

Jo sat at the kitchen table eating Cheerios and reading the back of the cereal box. Her eyes passed over the words, but nothing registered. She couldn't stop thinking about last night, about Blair: how beautiful she looked lying naked beside her. She felt proud to have such an amazing lover. She felt like a missing piece of her had been found. She was complete now, a woman in every sense of the word. Ready to take on the world.

"Good morning, Jo!" Tootie startled her as she sat down beside her. "So… what's new?"

"I think you know what's new, Tootie," Jo responded as she shook her head.

"I do!" Tootie jumped up and hugged her from behind resting her head on Jo's. "It's _so_ exciting!"

"If I had known it would bring you and Nat such pleasure, I would've fucked Blair years ago," Jo deadpanned.

"Oh, don't be a killjoy! I only meant that I'm happy for you guys."

"It's good to know," Jo gave her a reluctant grin. "Thanks, Tootie."

"So how does this change things for us?" Tootie sat back down beside her. "For our relationship?"

Jo stared at her dumbfounded. She lifted an eyebrow. "It doesn't?"

"I know some of the guys in my theatre program are gay. But, they're not my best friends like you guys are."

"Tootie, it's me. It's Blair. We're the same people we've always been. Nothing changes for us."

"Oh," Tootie thought for a moment before breaking out in a huge smile. "So we're still the same then?"

Jo shook her head. "Yep."

"What a night," Natalie yawned as she entered the dining room.

"Not you, too, Nat," Jo sighed and shook her head again.

"Alejandro," Natalie's eyes glazed over. "Don't you just love the sound of his name?"

"Not the Amnesty International guy again, Natalie," Tootie complained. She turned to Jo. "I've had to hear about him all morning!"

"I'm good with hearing about Alejandro," Jo shrugged. _Anything to get the attention off of me!_

"So, where's Blair?" Natalie questioned. "Thought you two would still be in bed!" She winked at Tootie.

"Hey! I'm trying to read the back of a box of Cheerios here, for crying out loud!" Jo complained. "Cripes, I feel like an animal in the zoo."

"Huh?" Tootie questioned.

"On display," Jo furrowed her brow. "Look it's Sunday, right? Blair always sleeps in on Sundays."

"Guess she needs her rest this morning, huh, Jo?" Tootie nudged her.

"What's all this about Blair?" Mrs. Garrett asked casually as she breezed into the room and poured herself a cup of coffee. "I hope you two girls aren't fighting again," she eyed Jo.

"Oh, they aren't fighting," Tootie grinned at Natalie before both girls broke out in laughter.

"That's it! I'm outta' here!" Jo pushed her chair back angrily.

"Jo!" Mrs. Garrett was befuddled by her sudden outburst of anger. "Whatever is the matter?"

Jo didn't answer as she hastily made her way out of the dining room. She bumped into Blair in the doorway. Her demeanor immediately changed as they smiled at each other. Blair reflexively lifted her hand to touch Jo's face, but quickly drew it back.

"Good morning, Jo," she offered nervously.

"Morning."

"Will you join me for a cup of coffee?"

Jo glared at Natalie and Tootie. "Well, now that _you're_ here, I guess I'll stay."

"Good morning everyone," Blair chirped brightly as she joined them at the table.

"Did you girls have a good day yesterday?" Mrs. Garrett inquired pleasantly.

"It was the most fabulous day," Blair took a sip of her coffee without a hint of irony in her voice.

"What did you and Jo do?"

Natalie kicked Tootie under the table. "What didn't they do?" Both girls began giggling again.

Mrs. Garrett shook her head. "I seem to be out of the loop on something here."

"I guess we might as well tell you," Blair sighed. Jo gave her a nervous look.

"Really?" she asked.

"Mrs. Garrett, Jo and I are going to move out."

"Wait… what?" Natalie exclaimed.

"Yeah!" Tootie called out. "You said this wouldn't change anything between us, Jo! Now you and Blair want to move out?"

"I'm a little lost," Mrs. G. looked confused. "What's going on here?"

"They weren't supposed to tell you that they're moving, Mrs. Garrett. They were supposed to tell you that they're in love with each other and that they're a couple now!" Tootie blurted out. "They're having sex and everything!"

"There's that, too," Blair didn't skip a beat as she smiled almost too sweetly at Tootie.

Jo shot the younger woman a scathing look.

"Well, at least that explains all the moaning and groaning I heard when I came in last night."

"Mrs. Garrett!" All four exclaimed at once.

Mrs. G. was taken aback. "What? I thought I might be having an episode of some sort! When you get to my age, you start worrying about such things!"

There was an awkward silence.

"Shit," Jo finally exhaled.

"Language, Jo," Mrs. Garrett admonished. "Not at the breakfast table!"

The four younger women exchanged glances before breaking out in laughter. Mrs. G. tried not to laugh, but soon joined the others.

"Well, this is big news," she reached out and patted both Jo and Blair's hands. "You two certainly have grown up: in love, wanting to be on your own. I'm so proud of you!"

Jo and Blair beamed at each other. Neither had thought they needed external validation: their love was enough to sustain them regardless of what anyone else thought. But when it came, and from the woman they both respected most in their lives, it felt wonderful.

"Thanks, Mrs. G," Jo looked at her with tear filled eyes. "That means a lot, coming from you."

"It does," Blair agreed as she gripped Mrs. Garrett's hand firmly.

"I know I'm not your mother, but I feel I've had some hand in your upbringing."

"You've been like a mother to both of us," Blair assured.

"All a parent wants is for her children to be happy and successful. I can tell by just looking at you two how happy you are. You are both strong, fine young women. The whole world is waiting for you! Moving out is the next step. So, when do you envision this happening?"

"Today," Blair stated confidently.

"Whoa!" Jo was shocked. "Today?"

"Yeah, c'mon Blair," Natalie chimed in. "Take a breath."

"I didn't mean we'd move out today, just that we'd go apartment hunting today."

"It would've been nice if you bounced that off me first," Jo said. "I've got a symposium up at school on tolerance and inclusion at Langley. After that, there's a showing of _The Rocky Horror Picture show._ Pride weekend is still in full swing, you know?"

"But, I used my father's real estate connections to set up some potential apartments for us. You've seen _Rocky Horror_ about a million times. You even played Frank-N-Furter at a midnight showing, if I remember correctly. The whole thing was such a ghastly blur."

"Hey! I had to step in for Jerry who got sick that night! It was a favor for a friend. I was being a Pal! And, as I remember it, you loved it, Blair. You were throwing toilet paper and skirting water with the rest of them. I particularly remember you screaming ecstatically when I came out on stage!"

"Yeah, well…" Blair grinned, "You were awfully cute in full drag make-up and a corset."

"I love Frank-N-Furter!" Natalie exclaimed.

"I love Susan Sarandon," Tootie chimed in. "She's going to win the Academy Award one day, mark my words!"

"But Jo," Blair pressed her point. "I've set up appointments!"

"You move fast, Warner," Jo eyed her with grudging admiration. "I'll give you that. But, like I said, you should've checked with me first."

"Their first lovers spat," Natalie beamed as she crossed her arms upon her chest. She shook her head with a proud grin. "And to think I'm here to witness it! I'm verklempt!" She waved a hand in front of her face as if to fight off tears.

Blair quickly ran an internal check on her emotions as she tried to identify just exactly why Natalie's humorous posturing had really pissed her off, but it had! What had happened between her and Jo was intensely personal and now Nat was having fun at her expense? This just wasn't what she had wanted. Everything was definitely not the same: not since last night. Yet, here were her two best friends, acting as if it was: making jokes and laughing! She had hoped that broaching the subject of moving out would have led to a more mannered conversation with Mrs. Garrett about her relationship with Jo. But then Tootie had to spill the proverbial beans all over the place and now here they were: discussing their life decisions as if they were communal property to be mocked and belittled. Her inner reserve was wearing thin.

"Knock it off, Natalie," Blair bored a hole into her with a withering gaze. "This is between me and Jo."

Jo looked at her, trying to assess what had prompted such an angry response to what was so clearly an attempt at humor on Natalie's part. It occurred to her that Blair might be feeling exposed. She knew how closely Blair held her deepest emotions in check. The revelation that she and Blair were now in a relationship had to feel oddly public to her. It was one thing for _her_ to know how Blair really felt. It was quite another for everyone else to know. It was something she was struggling with herself. She didn't doubt that Blair was proud of their relationship. But it was just weird coming out to people. And to make it even more uncomfortable, Tootie had blabbed it and Natalie had made a joke about it! Blair could not be laughed at when she had exposed her heart so openly, Jo reckoned. No one would be allowed to make fun at Blair's expense, but her, she decided.

"That's right," she nodded, taking up for Blair.

"Chill," Natalie stated as she relaxed back into her chair.

"Yeah, lay off Nat, you guys. She was just joking," Tootie defended her friend.

"We didn't need a mood lightening, Tootie. Jo and I can work things out without any intervention from third parties!"

"And that means no jokes?" Natalie questioned in a shocked manner She shook her head in disbelief.

"Girls, girls, girls," Mrs. Garrett intervened. "Let's talk this out, not fight."

"I want to move out," Blair stated calmly. "Because we will always be viewed as the same old Blair and Jo here: comic adversaries. Jo and I have moved beyond that."

"I dunno'," Jo smiled. "We'll always be adversarial. That's what makes us… us."

"Which was all I was trying to point out," Natalie almost whispered.

"I just don't want our relationship on display," Blair said.

"Like you're in the zoo?" Tootie questioned as she looked at Jo.

"Like we're on display for your amusement," Blair clarified. "You had no right, Tootie, to tell Mrs. G. about me and Jo! It was ours to tell!"

"Blair, settle down," Jo patted her arm. "You know that's just how Tootie is, that's how she got her name, after all. Besides, we had agreed to come clean with Mrs. G. this morning, anyway."

"I am _so_ sorry, Blair," Tootie apologized sincerely. "You are completely right."

"Well, there we have it," Mrs. Garrett interjected. "Apology accepted, Blair?" she looked at the heiress hopefully.

"I want to be completely clear," Blair began. "I love Jo. We're together now. I'm not looking for anyone's approval, but I do need you all to respect that. I don't want to hide our relationship from anyone. I mean, look at her," She nodded towards Jo. "Who wouldn't be proud to have her on their arm? My hope is that you three will accept this; not make jokes about it. It's not easy to share something like this with friends and family. We need your support," she paused as she eyed them with an almost plaintive gaze. "This is important to me, you guys. It's as important as anything I've ever requested of you."

"Well stated!" Mrs. Garrett squeezed her hand.

"I'm done with the jokes," Natalie shrugged. "Seriously!"

"You're right, Blair," Tootie looked at her hopefully. "I hope you can forgive me."

Blair finally unclenched and gave a little smile to her younger housemate. "How could I stay mad at you? Look at that face." They embraced.

Jo sat silent.

"Jo?" Mrs. Garrett inquired. "How are you feeling about this? Are you alright?"

"I dunno', Mrs. G," Jo's eyes were downcast as she shrugged. "Up until recently, I didn't think I could really admit this thing with Blair to her, let alone publicly, ya' know?"

"We're here for you," Mrs. Garrett gripped her hand as Blair stared at her anxiously.

Jo looked up at Blair. "Everything you just said, you blew me away, Blondie."

Blair exhaled a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. "Oh, thank God, Sweetheart. I thought you might be upset."

"Sweetheart?" Natalie whispered to Tootie before clenching her lips together and throwing a hand in front of them.

"I was just thinking about my family. You seem to want to be out to everybody… and I want that, too. But, I just don't know how they're going to take this."

"They love you, Jo," Mrs. Garrett affirmed. "They may have trouble accepting at first, but they'll come around. From what I know of your parents, they will, eventually, support you. I have no doubt."

"Thanks, Mrs. G." Jo beamed brightly at her as her eyes filled with tears and she nodded her head in the affirmative.

"It's a process, Jo. Just give it time," Mrs. Garrett hugged her.

Blair rose from her chair. She walked over to Jo and wrapped her arms around her shoulders from behind as she planted a kiss on Jo's cheek.

"This is going to take some getting used to," Tootie proffered hesitantly. "I mean seeing you guys kiss and everything."

"Aaw," Natalie sighed. "They are so cute, Tootie!"

"I'm not saying they're not cute. I'm just saying it's going to take some getting used to!"

"We'll try to keep things PG for you, Tootie," Jo gave her a quick smile.

"No need to scare the children," Blair agreed.

"Meanwhile, I'll call someone on the student council about blowing off the symposium so we can go apartment hunting."

"Don't compromise your principles, Jo," Blair warned. "I love you for who you are."

"Nah, you're my priority now," Jo gazed up at her lovingly.

Blair squeezed her tightly and kissed her again.

"I didn't expect you to be so comfortable with this, Blair," Jo gave her a wondering gaze.

"With what?" Blair sat beside her and looked at her quizzically.

"With coming out to people."

"Oh, I'm not, Jo. I just refuse to let other people tell me how to live my life!"

Jo nodded her appreciation with a determined look on her face. "That's my girl. C'mon. Let's go find us an apartment!"


	3. The Better Part of Valor

Jo and Blair walked down the main street of Peekskill after having looked at a few apartments. The town was still inhabited by many people celebrating Langley's first Gay Pride weekend. Jo felt free to hang her arm around Blair's shoulder, her hand just barely above her breast, in a very possessive and suggestive manner.

"This feels good," she said.

"What does, Jo?"

"Being able to walk down the street with my arm around you."

"It feels wonderful," Blair agreed.

Just then, they passed by Jo's favorite shop: the bike store. A biker was sitting out front on his motorcycle as they walked by.

"What a waste of tits," he murmured as they passed.

"Oh, believe me, they are not wasted, Buddy," Jo smiled back at him.

"What did he say?" Blair was alarmed. "Was he talking about my breasts?"

"Relax, Blair, he's an asshole."

"I'm going to kill him!" Blair turned to run back at the biker. Jo held her tight as she swung at the air.

"Settle down. You can't go after every dickhead who makes an asshole comment."

"Looks like you got a tiger by the tail," the biker smirked. "Maybe she needs a real man with the right equipment to calm her down," he grabbed his crotch.

"Yeah, and that would be you right?" Jo turned towards him. "A real dick."

"Hey!" the biker said as he got off his bike and approached them.

"What's going on here?" Chris walked up on them.

"That guy made an uncouth remark about my breasts!"

"Oh, is that all?" Chris smiled.

"We don't like faggots around here!" the biker announced as he stood with an aggressive posture.

"What you going to do about it?" Jo responded angrily.

"This is an artist community, surrounded by colleges, on one of the most beautiful bends in the Hudson River Valley," Chris eyed him contemptuously. "Better get used to the faggots, 'cause we're not going anywhere."

"I'm thinking about fucking you're girlfriend. She's way too hot for you dykes!"

The biker held out his arms and mimicked fondling Blair's breasts as he pumped his crotch in a suggestive manner.

Jo exploded as she ran towards him. Chris grabbed her to hold her back.

"Let me go, Chris!"

Blair, although horrified at the crudeness of the situation and still very angry herself, saw the irony in it none-the-less.

"Yeah, Jo! Let it go. You can't go after every dickhead who makes an asshole comment!"

Jo and Chris were stunned by Blair's sudden outburst of profanity. They turned to each other and began to laugh.

"Blair? Is that you?" Jo continued laughing.

"I fail to see the humor in this situation," Blair huffed.

"Funny, huh?" the biker glared at them menacingly as two of his friends exited the shop and looked at him questioningly. He turned towards them. "These bitches are not showing proper respect!"

"Lay-off, Bobo," one of them said. "Not worth it."

"Bozo!" Jo laughed even harder. "That's your name?"

"It's Bobo, dyke!" he replied angrily.

"Oh! Well that's so much better!" Jo rolled her eyes at Chris.

"We don't need you're permission to walk down the street! Nor do we need your approval to display affection!" Blair declared as she engaged Jo in a kiss, making sure to fondle her breasts as she did so.

"That is so hot," one of the other bikers smirked transfixed by the display.

And then, to Jo's utter horror, she watched as Blair marched over and kicked Bobo's bike. "Take that, you barbaric ruffian!"

"Oh shit," Jo exclaimed. She grabbed Blair's hand. "Run, Blair!" she yelled.

"Why?" Blair stood defiantly. "What are they going to do? Call a cop? They were harassing us!"

"She kicked your bike," one of Bobo's friends nudged him. "That prissy little girl kicked your bike," he eyed his other friend with amusement.

"Run!" Jo repeated as she yanked her arm. Chris was already racing across the street. The trio scurried down an alley and ducked into a shop with Bobo in hot pursuit.

"Blair! You are crazy!" Jo whispered breathlessly.

"I'm just standing up for our rights," Blair stated loudly.

"But, you've got to pick your battles, Blair. Use some discretion, for crying out loud!"

"It was worth it," she smiled as she kissed Jo's cheek.

"May I help you ladies with something?" a voice surprised them.

"Gary!" Blair called out merrily. "Good to see you again!"

"And this, I take it," he said as he gave Jo the once over, "is my rival for your affections? I can see why I was so summarily dismissed! Charmed," he smiled as he kissed Jo's hand.

"Hey!" Jo complained as she grabbed her hand back. "Knock it off! Look, buddy, I don't know who you are, but you've got to hide us… fast!"

The artist quickly ushered the three women to the back of the studio.

"What's going on here, Blair?" Gary inquired.

"I kicked some silly motorcycle and now the dreadful owner is chasing us."

"Wow! Three damsels in distress… this never happens in real life!" The door of his studio was suddenly slammed open. "Leave it to me!"

"Bobo!" Gary stated with an air of familiarity. "You're not chasing three young women, are you?"

"The uptown girl kicked my bike, Gary! You know I can't let that pass!"

"What I know, is that you are still on probation. Assault and battery is not something you want added to your record."

Bobo's companions entered behind him. "Robbie, Spike," Gary shook their hands. "Good to see you again! I was just explaining to Bobo that he probably shouldn't risk another arrest."

"Agreed," Robbie nodded. "Let's get out of here."

"But that bitch kicked my bike!" Bobo complained.

"I kicked your bike because you're a pig," Blair emerged from hiding with Jo desperately trying to pull her back.

"I better not see you around here again," Bobo threatened.

"I better not see you either," Blair informed confidently. "I am Blair Warner. My Daddy will have your fat butt in jail faster than you can pick the fleas out of your beard!"

"Blair, shut up," Jo cautioned as Bobo's friend's laughed.

"Let's go Bobo, this ain't worth it," Robbie nodded his head towards the door. As the three bikers exited, Spike turned to address them.

"Just so you know, not all bikers are homophobes. I think you have the right to do what you want; this is America, isn't it? Just don't go kicking anymore bikes, okay?"

"Oh, she won't," Jo took Blair's hand. "I promise!"

Spike nodded, but as he headed for the door, he turned and grinned at them. "That kiss _was_ hot, by the way," he smiled as he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Which reminds me, Blondie: don't ever fondle my breasts in public again! Got it?" Jo admonished.

Blair shrugged non-committedly.

"I dunno', Jo," Chris shrugged. "It was kinda' hot!"

"And I missed this?" Gary complained. "All work and no play…" his voice trailed off as he sighed.

"Who _are_ you?" Jo looked at him skeptically.

"Jo Polniaczek meet Gary O'Neal," Chris made the introduction. "His father is the police chief here in town."

"The pleasure's all mine," Gary smiled.

"I guess that explains your familiarity with the local bikers," Jo nodded.

"Oh, I know all the criminals in Peekskill!" Gary stated proudly.

"But it doesn't explain your interest in Blair," she drew Blair close with an arm around her waist.

"Blair and I met yesterday. I gave it my best shot, who could blame me? But she definitely had her mind on someone else."

"Just so we're clear on that," Jo stated emphatically.

"Get over it, Jo," Blair chastised her. "This is the guy who put me on to his studio co-op up near Langley. It's where I made your bracelet, yesterday, such as it is."

Gary took Jo's hand as he eyed her bracelet. "This is good work, Blair," he turned Jo's wrist over to further examine the leatherwork. "Very elegantly woven: simple, yet sophisticated. You are a very talented artist! It's perfect!"

"Yeah, that's what I said," Jo eyed him suspiciously as she yanked her hand back. "Quit touching me, Gary!"

"I'm a toucher," Gary shrugged.

"It's hard to believe you're the police chief's son. You're so artsy-fartsy." Jo smirked.

"Be nice, Jo," Blair said tersely. "So you have a studio here in town, too?" Blair questioned.

"Our studio cooperative is a shared space. None of us could afford this on our own, but together," he threw open his arms. "We're trying to establish an art colony down here in Peekskill."

"What's your relationship with this guy?" Jo questioned Chris.

"Oh, I hit on her, too," Gary quickly interjected.

"He did… when I first got to Langley. I wasn't sure about coming out then, so we actually dated for awhile!" Chris explained.

"Best four months of my life," Gary continued to pour it on.

"All right, Casanova," Jo rolled her eyes. "I still can't believe you're actually the police chief's son."

"And I can't believe we're still standing here instead of chatting over lunch," Gary smiled.

* * *

"What are you doing in Peekskill?" Jo inquired of Chris as she handed the menu back to the waitress. "Thought you'd be over on campus today."

"Yeah, I was at the symposium, but I've seen _Rocky Horror_ about a million times. Hey, weren't you one of the organizers, Jo?"

"I was supposed to be there, but I phoned Jerry. He let me off the hook so I could apartment hunt with Blair here," she nodded.

"Whoa! Apartment hunting? I mean yesterday you guys were just, um…"

"Blair moves fast," Jo shrugged.

"Well, not really, Jo," Blair smiled sweetly at the waitress as she returned the menu. "I mean, considering how long we've had feelings for each other and until last night we hadn't even…"

"Blair!" Jo cut her off as she elbowed her.

"Sorry!" Blair rolled her eyes. "It's not like they don't know."

"Something's are private, okay?" Jo was upset as she apologized to her lunch mates. "I'm sorry, you guys. Sometimes Blondie, here, has no working filters."

Blair took a long sip of water before returning the glass to the table with a determined pout.

"So," Chris changed the subject. "Why are you looking for a place in Peekskill instead of closer to campus?"

"We want to stay close to our friends here," Jo offered. "We're kind of involved in a business together."

"They're our family here," Blair added. "We couldn't totally abandon them!"

"Moving twenty minutes away is not exactly the same as moving to Mars," Chris pointed out.

"I like it here," Blair affirmed. "It has a rustic beauty. Plus, Jo has her heart set on a view of the river."

"Really?" Gary jumped in. "Cuz I know of a place coming open next month!"

"One of your artsy types abandoning ship?" Jo was skeptical.

"Um, actually, my Mom's into real estate and property management."

"So Dad's a cop and Mom's a real estate agent? You're just Mr. Peekskill, aren't you?" Jo chided.

"Born and raised," Gary confirmed. "That's why it was so hard when I went off to Cal."

"Wait," Blair almost spit out her water. "You went to Cal, as in Berkeley?"

"For four years."

"But you're Dad's a cop? How did you afford it?" Jo asked indelicately.

"Berkeley's a public school. My parents saved. I was an only child."

"How was it out there?" Blair was intensely curious.

"Beautiful. One of the prettiest campuses you'll ever see. I loved San Francisco, too. There's a really vibrant art community there. But you should see what passes for a winter storm… ridiculous!"

"So, great weather, great community, um… what are you doing back here?" Jo asked.

"Long story. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer. I was actually accepted to the law school."

"You were accepted to Boalt?" Blair was amazed.

"Yeah, but I only stayed one semester. By then I realized the law wasn't my bag. I'm an artist. I didn't want to waste my parent's hard earned money. They were a little disappointed, to say the least."

"They're very supportive of you, Gary," Chris offered.

"I managed to convince them that it would be a good idea to try and develop an art community here in Peekskill."

"It's a great idea," Chris smiled.

"Well, seeing as the option was me trying to make my way as an artist in San Francisco, they warmed to the idea."

"I can't believe you were actually at Boalt Hall," Blair shook her head.

"What's the big deal, Blair?" Jo questioned.

"It's a top ten law school, Jo!" Blair looked at her incredulously.

"And he didn't want to be a lawyer, so get over it," Jo scolded her. "Blair wants to be a lawyer," she informed Gary.

"An artist lawyer, that was almost my fate… imagine that!" he smiled brightly at Blair.

"Yeah, you two have a lot in common," Jo noticed.

Blair rested her hand on Jo's thigh to soften her demeanor. It worked.

"So what's it like for your Dad, being police chief and all?" Jo asked.

"Peekskill's a small town. Not much to it really: a few bar fights, a stolen car here and there, petty theft, dine and dash, a veritable hotbed of criminal activity."

Jo and Blair looked at each other. "Damn. We've done all those things, right Blair?" Jo smiled.

"Thanks to your influence," Blair answered. "I'm surprised we haven't already met your father, Gary… from _behind_ bars!"

"Wait a minute there, Missy," Jo complained. "You almost got us into a street fight today by kicking Bobo's bike! Bobo…," Jo laughed again at his name.

"That wasn't my fault. How was I to know that was such a big deal?"

"All the times you've been on my bike with me…"

"And you never told me there was such a thing as biker etiquette!" Blair interrupted her. "So, as usual, it would've been your fault if we got arrested… again!"

"So, Gary, I'm interested in police work," Jo decided to pay Blair back for her snarky remark.

"Seriously?" he looked surprise.

"Oh yes, didn't you know?" Blair began. "Jo here wants to risk her life protecting the innocent of New York City."

"New York?" Gary looked stunned.

"NYPD!" Jo stated proudly. "If you want to chase bad guys you gotta' go where the criminals are!"

"Fine," Blair stated defiantly. "Go ahead. Waste your high-powered intellect, not to mention years of education at one of the finest universities in the Northeast, on getting shot at on the streets of New York. I'll be enjoying the sunshine in California."

"Whadda' you talking about, Blair?"

"Boalt Hall: one of the best law schools in the country. I hear the community is very enlightened there, as well. Perfect for someone with my inclinations," she eyed Jo.

"No wait a minute, Blair," Jo took the bait. "Berkeley is all the way across the country!"

"I know that," Blair replied imperiously.

"We haven't discussed this," Jo was concerned.

"You don't ask for my input on your future, why should I ask for yours?"

"Oh, I get it," Jo smiled. "You don't want me to be a cop. I am still thinking about becoming a social worker or a teacher, you know?"

"Not just a teacher, Jo, a professor… you owe it to yourself!"

Jo gave her an annoyed glance. "There's nothing wrong with being a teacher, Blair."

"Teacher's are dreadfully underpaid. College professors get invited to cocktail parties. There's a big difference, Jo," Blair raised her eyebrows.

"Quit trying to micromanage my life!"

"I can't help it if I believe in your potential," Blair replied.

"I'm a teacher," Gary said.

"No way!" Blair and Jo called out together.

"Yep. I got my credential at Langley a couple years ago."

"That's when I met him," Chris explained.

"Now I teach some classes at the community college."

"Wow, Jo. Now he has something in common with you," Blair teased.

Gary looked at Chris. "Are they _always_ like this?"

"As far as I can tell… yes! I mean I knew both Jo and Blair before I met them as a couple: reasonable, thoughtful, kind, caring people, the both of them."

"Well, thanks Chris," Blair flipped her hair.

Jo gave her the eye: "Knock it off."

"But together?" Chris continued. "They become this whole different entity: a force unto itself."

"Um, I'm not sure what to make of that, Chris," Jo pondered.

"It's just that you're different around each other," Chris shrugged. "I guess it's true that opposites attract. You're dynamic is charged!"

"Well I think it's amazing!" Gary smiled. "You two sparkle!"

"We do not _sparkle_ , Gary," Jo complained.

"Leave him be, Jo," Blair chastised her. "I like the word _sparkle_!"

"It must be a little hard for the people you live with," Chris ventured.

"What?" Jo asked.

"The intense nature of your relationship," she shrugged.

"Which is just one of the reasons we want to get our own place," Blair explained.

"Yeah, that and some privacy," Jo added.

"Let me give my Mom a call," Gary said. "I think the apartment will become vacant in the next week or so. I want you guys to have the first crack at it. It's great: a view of the river, a fireplace…"

"Oh, Gary, that would be wonderful," Blair enthused. "Miss Picky here found fault with all the apartments my father's people set up for us."

"Hey! I am _not_ picky. I just want everything to be perfect!" Jo frowned.

"So, you're sure you want to move in together?" Gary looked at them as he rose from the table.

Blair rubbed Jo's leg. Jo looked at her and could not resist the urge to smile. She took Blair's hand in her own as Blair slid closer to her in the booth and laid her head on her shoulder.

"We're sure," Jo replied happily.

* * *

If Jo and Blair had been close before, Natalie mused, these days they were joined at the hip. They left for classes together, returned home together (usually retreating directly to their room), and rarely socialized with their other housemates.

"I don't know," she complained to Tootie one day. "I thought it would be cool if Jo and Blair were together. But, it feels like we've lost them."

"Give 'em a break, Nat. They're in love."

"You know what they're doing in their room every night."

"Um, I don't want to go there."

"Yeah, well, if anyone was going to be having sex around here, I was hoping it would be me!"

"In our room?"

"Oh. Right. Good point. But, it's almost not fair. Because they're both women, they get to have sex right here under our noses with no repercussions. Do you think either of us would get away with that?"

"If we were gay for each other," Tootie began cheerfully, but then quickly changed her tone, "Which we're not!"

"I love you, Tootie, but puhleeze!"

"So… what's your problem?"

"What if I _do_ want to have sex? It's not fair, is all I'm saying."

"Listen, Nat, if you get lucky before Jo and Blair move out, just leave me a signal."

"What kind of signal?"

"I don't know… like your underwear on the doorknob?"

"My underwear on the doorknob? Ew, gross, Tootie!"

"Then you're just going to have to keep it in your pants until Jo and Blair move out. After that, I get their room!"

"No way, Tootie, I get their room!"

"Aah, the sound of an argument" Mrs. Garrett intoned wistfully as she entered the living room. "You know, this place hardly seems the same without Jo and Blair's constant bickering. So, what's the discussion about?"

"Jo and Blair are leaving and Nat thinks she gets their room," Tootie complained.

"I'm the oldest and I get the room, that's all there is to it, Tootie!"

"In a pig's eye!"

"Girls," Mrs. Garrett intervened. "We'll figure this out later."

"Meanwhile," Natalie added, "It's going on ten o'clock and Jo and Blair didn't even bother to say hello before they ensconced themselves in their room."

"Leave them be, Natalie," Mrs. G. advised. "They're young and in love."

Tootie pointed at Mrs. Garrett as if to say: I told you so!

"Did you know, Mrs. G? I mean, did you suspect about Blair and Jo?" Natalie queried.

"Well, I um…"

"That means you did! But how?"

"I didn't know anything," Mrs. Garrett clarified. "I may have suspected a time or two."

"But, what would make you suspect even? I mean, Blair was like a serial dater!"

"Precisely, Natalie."

"Aah, I see," a light went on in Nat's head. "Classic over compensation!"

"But, what about that time Blair tried to shame Cindy about looking like a boy and hugging girls?"

"That was a long time ago, Natalie. But, maybe, just maybe, she saw something that scared her because she recognized it in herself."

"Textbook denial," Natalie nodded vehemently. "And Jo?"

"Jo just needed time to come to terms with her own true nature."

"Fascinating," Nat shook her head. "But, I still don't see why that means they have to avoid us. They've been in love before."

"Oh, this is different, Natalie," Mrs. Garrett pointed out. "Besides, they've been holding up their end of the business in the store. And they had dinner with us just yesterday."

"I know, I know," Natalie plopped down on the couch. "But we used to go to the movies and concerts and watch T.V. and play cards together… the Four Musketeers, remember? It's like they've totally cut us out. They're the Two Musketeers now. Which doesn't make any sense because there is no such thing as The Two Musketeers!"

"Cut 'em some slack, Nat," Tootie advised. "This is all new for them, for all of us."

"Yeah, but there are so many things I want to know, want to ask them," Natalie protested. "I _am_ a writer, you know? My profession demands that I understand human nature!"

"It's none of our business, Nat," Tootie gave her a scolding look.

"But, Blair's not even going to let us make jokes about this," Natalie shook her head. "How is _that_ fair?"

"I'm sure they'll get back to normal after awhile," Mrs. G. shrugged.

"After awhile? They're moving out! Meanwhile, God only knows what they're doing up there," Natalie shook her head.

"That is _definitely_ none of our business," Mrs. G. nodded.

* * *

Jo had to admit that she loved going down on Blair. She loved everything about it. She had actually ripped her silk underwear at one point, trying to remove it too quickly. But this only seemed to heighten her partner's excitement. As a matter of fact, there seemed to be nothing she could do to Blair that the other girl didn't like. It seemed she had a very adventurous nature hidden beneath all that high society polish. Was this was one of the reasons why she enjoyed it so much, she wondered? Upper class meets working class with the rich girl spread open and helpless before her while she ravaged her essence with her mouth? It didn't matter why she desired it so, Jo mused, only that it made her feel incredibly aroused to part the heiresses' thighs and dive in. She loved it when Blair came into her mouth. It was like tiny fireworks exploding on her tongue. The essence that was Blair, it was like a drug that she couldn't get enough of.

It had been a great relief to her that they had turned out to be so physically compatible. She had been very nervous before the first time they were together. There could be awkwardness when two people who already knew each other so intimately actually became intimate, despite immense physical longing. But from the moment Blair had crossed the room and touched her, any insecurities Jo had had about their sexual compatibility melted away in waves of desire.

And Blair had been so aggressive that first night! Love bites, sucking, licking, hands all over everywhere. It was as if she had held everything in for so long that when it came out, it exploded. In a good way, to be sure, but she had shattered any expectations Jo might have had about what making love to her would be like.

Who was this hidden tiger resting next to her now, her head snuggled into her neck like a docile kitten? A whole new Blair Warner was being revealed. After all the time they had spent together, that there was so much she hadn't known, so much more to Blair that she had ever realized, was more than just amazing, it was downright spiritual. This was it, she decided. This was what being in love was all about: becoming completely open and vulnerable, each to the other, physically and emotionally. Yet, she also felt completely safe with Blair. Their long history meant they knew each other's foibles intricately.

 _I can't blow this,_ she thought to herself. _We're so combustible!_

But wasn't combustibility part of what made their connection so special? This she had to ponder greatly. How could it be that fighting and arguing was part of such an intensely beautiful, intimate relationship?

"Jo," Blair mumbled. "Shut up."

"I thought you were asleep."

"I was," she snuggled a little closer. "But I could hear you thinking, so shut up."

"You cannot hear me thinking!" Jo protested. _Could she?_

"Well, whatever you're doing, it's bugging me, so knock it off."

"I'm not doing anything, Blair," Jo became irritated.

"Yeah, you are. You're all tense. Just relax, hold me and go to sleep."

"Like you can just command me to go to sleep. Who do you think you are?"

"Blair Warner, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, well…" Jo was flustered. "Blair Warner cannot control my sleep patterns!"

"I _am_ in control, silly. Don't even try to fight it," Blair murmured drowsily as she hugged Jo closer.

"We'll see who's in control when I spread your legs and devour you!"

"Promises, promises," Blair yawned.

"You asked for it, Blondie!"

Jo didn't waste any time wresting back control.

* * *

Natalie had been right: except for classes, Blair and Jo spent almost all their time together. They had not made a conscious decision to avoid friends, but they found themselves very wrapped up in their new relationship. To most, it was barely noticeable, as Blair and Jo had been constantly in each other's company for years. But, to their closest friends, there had been an obvious shift in the amount of time they afforded them.

When not working in the shop or studying or making love, they took long walks through the campus or short walks through town. Blair had a habit of slipping her arm through Jo's, or joining hands. Despite Jo's preference to avoid public displays of affection, she felt powerless to rebuff Blair's very sweet expressions of affection.

On one occasion, they took a ride up onto the bluffs overlooking the river. Jo pulled her bike up onto the crest of a hill. Quite the ride, she told herself. This was the best: speed, noise, freedom and her uptown girl clinging to her like there was no tomorrow. She removed her helmet and gazed down at the river. Beautiful. She felt Blair's arms relax as she removed her helmet and rested her head between her shoulders.

"Amazing, isn't. Blair?"

"Mm-hmm," came a muffled reply.

"Okay, what's bugging you?"

"What makes you think anything's bugging me?"

"I _know_ you, Blair. Out with it!"

"Well, if you must know," Blair hopped off the back of the bike, "it's just that I would like to drive sometimes."

"What? My motorcycle?"

"Yes."

"Blair, you do not know how to ride!" Jo kicked her bike back on its stand and stood protectively in front it.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"What?"

"Yeah. I couldn't stand it that you could do something that I couldn't, so I took lessons."

"What?" Jo was momentarily dumbstruck. "When? Where?"

"Last summer, in the Hamptons," Blair replied nonchalantly.

"So, wait a minute now… you know how to ride a bike, a motorcycle?"

"I do."

"Blair, our lives aren't a competition. You've got to get it through that hard head of yours. Whatever I do, you don't have to do, as well. It's good that we're different."

" _Vive la diff_ _é_ _rence?"_

"Something like that, I guess. Look, Blair, if I wanted to be with someone like myself, I would. There are lots of girls out there who ride motorcycles, are incredibly intelligent and good-looking, and have a relaxed fashion sense. Instead, I went for you."

"A _relaxed_ fashion sense? Is that what you're calling it?"

"Yeah. I know how to dress comfortably."

Blair rolled her eyes.

"At any rate," Jo continued, "I didn't choose any of those wonderful, exciting women. I chose you."

"So let me get this straight," Blair smiled as she shook her head. "You could've chosen someone incredibly good-looking."

"Check."

"Someone highly intelligent…"

"Check."

"Someone wonderful, exciting and adventurous…"

"Check, check and check," Jo smirked.

"But instead, you chose me."

"I got a weakness for bleach-bottle-blondes. What can I tell you?"

"You are such an asshole," Blair hit Jo's arm.

"Ow! Plus, unladylike language, Blair! Really?" Jo complained as she rubbed her arm.

"What's the matter? Do I sound like a biker chick?"

"It's just that you don't quite have the hang of it yet. Cussing is an artform, when done correctly."

"I totally used that word right. It perfectly describes you."

"Yeah, well cussing is my thing… as is riding bikes. Just let me have my things, Blair. You have your things and I have mine. They don't need to be the same. _Vive la diff_ _é_ _rence,_ as you said."

"Jo! You spoke French!"

"Don't get too excited. It won't be happening on a regular basis."

"Yeah. I guess speaking French is one of my things, huh?"

"Definitely," Jo nodded. "But listen Blair, I gotta' ask you, 'cause it's killing me: did you like riding a bike?"

Blair's eyes lit up. "Are you kidding me? It was fantastic! Such freedom! I never felt anything like it!"

"Uh-oh," Jo sighed.

"Uh-oh, what?"

"Your hooked, aren't you? That's what riding does to you. It gives you such a sense of freedom; it hooks you right in."

"I am not _hooked_ , Jo. I mean it was a thrill to have all that power throbbing between my legs, but that's what you're for now," she teased.

"Good to know I fulfill a purpose in your life."

"I'll make a deal with you. I'll agree to ride on the back of your bike, so long as you agree to service me in other areas."

"I think I can handle that."

"You can begin by stroking my ego. Tell me why you chose me over all those other girls you could've _supposedly_ had."

"Oh, it's not supposedly, it's a fact."

"And still you chose me. Is it because I actually _am_ incredibly good-looking, highly intelligent, wonderful, exciting and adventurous?"

"Yeah," Jo smiled sheepishly. "And humble, don't forget that one."

"Well," Blair put her hand on her chest in a gesture of faux humility as she batted her eyes.

"You're always surprising me, Blair," Jo shook her head. "Motorcycles. What's next?"

"I got the apartment."

"The one Gary's Mom showed us?"

"Yep."

"I loved that place, Blair! We got it?"

"I put down a deposit and rent through the summer."

"I can't pay for the summer. I won't be here. You know that."

"I'll take care of it. I want to start decorating this summer, in between my trips to Europe and the Caribbean."

"We are from different planets, Blair."

"It's okay, really Jo. I'm the one who wants to have everything up to my expectations by the time we actually start cohabitating."

"You know I want to pay my own way."

"And you will, once you move in!"

"Fair enough. I guess I can live with that."

They stood and looked at each other. A slight breeze lifted their hair. The rays of a setting sun bathed their features in a gentle glow. This was a moment that only those in love could possibly understand: a gaze filled with the wonderment at the depth and truth of their feelings. These moments were magical, filled with limitless possibilities. No words were spoken as they gently joined hands and turned to their faces towards the twilight.

* * *

Mrs. Garrett, Natalie and Tootie stood in the living room gazing at Blair and Jo's new apartment. It was a two story duplex with a detached parking garage and a deck off the front door.

"So, whadda' ya think?" Jo queried.

"This is wonderful, girls" Mrs. Garrett gushed. "A fireplace, a view of the river…"

"Everything Jo wanted," Blair placed her arm around her girlfriend. "And the best thing is, it's very reasonably priced!"

"Yeah," Jo smiled proudly, "I can pay my fair share here!"

"So Gary got you this place?" Tootie asked.

"Yep," Jo nodded. "Turns out he's not so bad, after all."

"I never thought he was anything but gorgeous," Natalie retorted.

"So when can you move in?" Mrs. Garrett asked.

"June," Blair smiled. "I can't wait to furnish it: couches, tables, televisions, stereos…" she looked at Jo and blushed, "a bed."

"Now hold on, Blair," Jo interrupted. "I can't take charity and you know it."

Tootie and Natalie rolled their eyes at each other.

"It's not charity, Jo, if I'm going to live here, too!" Blair insisted. "I need to have a certain level of comfort."

"Yeah, just don't go overboard, Your Highness."

"Anyway," Blair wrapped her arm in Jo's, "It will be all ready for us this summer!"

"Except for the fact that I have an internship at Bronx Community Outreach this summer," Jo interjected.

"Which means I'll decorate myself before my European trip," Blair added as she looked at Jo. "Although I don't know how I'll be able to spend the summer without you," she lamented.

"I know," Jo gazed at her affectionately as they joined hands.

"I'll just throw myself into decorating this place, thinking of you…" Blair went on.

"Shit," Jo reflexively spit out.

"You're going to be living in Blair's house by the time you get back," Natalie nudged Jo.

"Don't I know it."

Blair showed Mrs. Garrett and Tootie the upstairs as Natalie followed Jo outside onto the deck. They looked back down over the town to the river.

"Nice view here," Natalie said.

"I like it," Jo responded.

"So this not making jokes about you and Blair thing," Natalie ventured. "It doesn't apply to me and you, does it?"

Jo threw her arm around Natalie. "Of course not, Nat." She nodded to an adirondack chair on the deck as they both sat down. "You just have to understand Blair. Her heart's been stomped on all her life. She's kinda' hurt, even if she doesn't show it. So she can't take jokes about our relationship in the same way I can."

"I think I get it," Natalie replied. "I'll try to be more sensitive around her. But," she eyed Jo cheerfully, "I can still tease you?"

"You better! I need someone keeping me grounded," Jo smiled affectionately. "I am going to be living with a princess!"

"Doesn't make you a prince," Natalie chided.

"Definitely not Prince Charming," Jo stated thoughtfully. "Frank-N-Furter is more like it!"

"Oh my God," Natalie sighed, "I love Frank-N-Furter!"

"Enough about _Rocky Horror_ " Blair groaned as she walked out onto the deck with Mrs. Garrett and Tootie.

"This is our reality," she walked behind Jo's chair and hugged her.

"It's a beautiful reality, girls" Mrs. Garrett smiled. "I think you'll be very happy here."

"Aw, thanks, Mrs. G.," Jo smiled broadly.

"Well, back to the old digs?" Mrs. Garrett shrugged. "I'll make us a celebration dinner!"

"I'm down," Tootie smiled.

"Me, too," Jo declared.

"You guys go," Blair nodded. "I rode my bicycle up here. I'm going to cruise through town and drop off the rental papers to Gary at his studio."

"Are you sure, Blair?" Jo questioned. "We could leave your bike here and pick it up tomorrow."

"Yeah, I'll be right down, don't worry."

They joined hands as their lips met.

"Don't be long," Jo whispered to Blair.

"I won't," Blair kissed her again before slinging her bag over her shoulder, retrieving her bicycle and heading off towards town.

"Who would of thunk this?" Jo shrugged as she turned to the other three.

"I know, right?" Natalie shrugged back as she threw her arm around Jo and they proceeded towards the car. Mrs. Garrett and Tootie followed, smiling happily behind them.

* * *

Blair dropped off the papers to Gary. He called out to her, as she was about to mount her bike.

"I'm meeting Chris for a drink, would you care to join us?"

"I think I have time," Blair acknowledged.

Blair allowed herself just one drink, as she wanted to get back and celebrate her new apartment with her friends.

As she parted ways with Gary and Chris in front of the bar, she gave them both a hug.

"Hey, faggots!" a teenager yelled as he jumped out of a pickup truck with a couple of friends.

"Excuse you!" Blair hollered back defiantly.

Chris quickly grabbed her elbow. "Pick your battles, remember?" she cautioned her.

"No, Chris, these young men have a problem, by all means… enlighten me!"

"Yeah," a surly young man approached her. "I've got a problem with dykes in my town!"

"Get used to it, dickhead, because I'm not going anywhere!"

Blair felt very proud of herself for using Jo's terminology correctly: dickhead! She turned to Gary and Chris just in time to see a look of horror upon their faces. There was a sudden ringing in her ears as the sidewalk approached her face rapidly. Everything went black as the voice of Blair Warner: artist, scholar, only heir to one of the largest business fortunes in America, girlfriend to Jo… was silenced.


	4. Inherent Problems with 1980's Gay Life

Blair was late for dinner. This, in itself, was not unusual and nothing to be concerned about. But that she had left the new apartment she was renting with Jo on bicycle and hadn't returned home yet, was upsetting. It was after dark. Jo was pacing.

"She should be here by now."

"Now, Jo, I'm sure she just ran into some friends or some other equally reasonable explanation," Mrs. Garrett reassured.

"She would've called, Mrs. G."

"Not without her pocket-sized phone," Tootie joked.

"What?" Jo was confounded.

"Blair thinks that someday we'll all have pocket-sized phones to call each other. I told her she was crazy."

"She knows how to use a pay phone, Tootie," Jo responded in an irritated manner.

"I hope nothing's happened to her," Natalie voiced her concern.

"I'm going to look for her on my bike," Jo determined.

Suddenly, there was a loud banging on the front door.

"Oh my!" Mrs. Garrett was startled.

Jo ran to the door and opened it. She was shocked by what she saw. There, on her front step, was Bobo, the moronic biker she and Blair had encountered after their first night together.

"Bobo?" Jo questioned.

"Um, Spike sent me," he mumbled.

"Beeecuzzz?" Jo drew out.

"There was a fight. Your blonde friend got hurt."

"What?"

"That blonde girlfriend of yours, the one who kicked my bike, she got beat up. Spike and Robbie tried to help, but she got beat up pretty bad. Your other friends, too. They're all at the hospital. They said you lived here, so I came to get you."

"Wait, what?"

"They're at the hospital."

Jo's mind froze. The message was not getting through. Why was a homophobic behemoth standing in her threshold talking about…?

"What?" she mouthed in a barely audible voice.

"I don't usually believe in karmic retribution, but she _did_ kick my bike" Bobo continued. "Seems a little like overkill, if you ask me," he shrugged.

"Are you saying that Blair got beat up?"

"The blonde one, the looker… yeah, she got worked over pretty good."

Jo's eyes widened as the realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

"I gotta' go to the hospital!" Jo shouted out to Mrs. Garrett in a panic as she grabbed her helmet.

"Now wait a minute, Jo," Mrs. Garrett called after her. "You're too upset. I don't want you on your bike."

"You could ride on the back of mine," Bobo offered.

"That's quite alright, um, sir," Mrs. G. eyed the massive biker occupying her threshold as she patted his arm. "I'll drive Jo to the hospital."

* * *

Mrs. Garrett dropped Jo off at the emergency room door before parking the car. As she ran into the hospital, she saw Chris and Gary sitting together holding hands. Chris jumped up when she saw her. She grabbed her and hugged her fiercely as a stream of tears ran down her cheeks.

"It was so horrible, Jo," she sobbed uncontrollably. Gary rose and rubbed Chris's back.

"What, the hell, happened, Gary?" Jo questioned nervously.

"They beat her, Jo. I'm so sorry. They beat her."

"Whadda' mean they beat her?"

"Oh, Jo," Chris was still crying. "It was a couple of gay-bashing assholes. They saw her hugging me and they jumped out of their truck screaming epithets at us. Blair mouthed off to them and they hit her in the back of the head with a baseball bat. Then they started kicking her!"

"What the fuck, Gary?" Jo yelled. "Why didn't you stop them?"

"We grabbed them," Gary defended himself. "Then they turned the bat on us!" He pointed to a large purple knot on his forehead.

"We tried to call you after they got done treating us, but I guess you had already left," Chris offered apologetically.

"I need to see Blair. Where is she?" Jo asked anxiously.

"They won't let anyone in to see her yet. Family only," Chris sighed.

"I _am_ family," Jo protested.

"They won't see it that way, I'm afraid," Chris lamented.

"I gotta' try," Jo stated as she walked over to the admitting desk. After a heated discussion with the admitting clerk, Jo returned to her friends, red-faced and angry.

"They won't even tell me her condition," she hissed to the others. "How bad is it?"

"She's alive, that's all we know. She took a pretty nasty blow to the back of her head and then face-planted on the sidewalk. That's when they started kicking her," Gary sighed.

"She landed on her face?" Jo's eyes brimmed with tears. "Where are they? I'll tear 'em apart with my bare hands!" She was livid.

"I already did that," a deep voice interrupted them. "Or, at least I tried."

"Careful not to incriminate yourself, Spike," an officer advised as he escorted the biker to a waiting room chair in handcuffs.

"Sam," Gary called out to the officer. "Do you really have to arrest him? He was defending us."

"I'm sorry, Gary, but he put three kids in the hospital. That's assault and battery," the officer informed.

"He put three pigs in the hospital!" Chris spit out.

"Be that as it may, his wounds have been treated and I've got to take him in," Sam shrugged. "As soon as his friend comes out."

"So how did you get involved in this?" Jo asked Spike.

"We was just riding by, minding our own business, when we saw these punks hit your friend," Spike looked at Jo. "They hit a lady. That really pisses me off."

"So you beat the crap out of them?"

"Careful what you say in front of me," Sam warned.

"He's right, Spike," Gary nodded. "Don't say anything else." Covering his mouth with his hand, he turned to Jo. "He beat the crap out of them," he murmured quietly.

"Thank you," Jo mouthed silently to Spike.

"Well, I can't take all the credit, Robbie had my back. Bobo kinda' gets confused when the action's fast. So he didn't get arrested. I just hope your friend is okay. Such a beautiful girl," Spike shook his head.

Suddenly there was a flurry of activity as several men in business suits paraded through the door. At the head of the pack, was David Warner, who shot a quick glance in Jo's direction before proceeding to the main desk. Blair's mother followed behind. She seemed lost and befuddled. When she saw Jo, she headed towards her. Jo met her half way.

"Oh, Jo," Monica was shaking. "It's so ghastly. How could something like this happen? It's just… ghastly!" She pulled Jo into an embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Monica," Jo choked out. "They won't let me in to see her," she complained softly.

"Monica!" David's voice was commanding as he nodded at her to follow him.

"I'll see what I can do," she kissed Jo's cheek before scurrying off after David. Blair's parents disappeared behind the treatment area doors as Jo was left standing by herself.

Mrs. Garrett soon arrived with Natalie and Tootie. She placed her hand on Jo's back. "They won't let me see her, Mrs. G.," Jo's voice was shaky.

"I know, Sweetie," Mrs. Garrett hugged her. "It's not fair. Darn hospital rules!" she sounded positively incensed.

"I guess Gary and I will take off, now that you're all here," Chris touched Jo's shoulder.

"Thanks for staying here with her," Jo embraced Chris before turning to Gary. She eyed the nasty bump on his head. "Thanks for trying to defend her," she shook his hand. "Looks like you got gay-bashed without even being a member of the club."

"Oh, I've paid my membership dues at this point, girlfriend. I am now an honorary lesbian!" Brief laughter was a welcome respite from the horror of the situation. "I just hope she's going to be all right."

As Chris and Gary exited, the other four sat down next to Spike and Officer Sam.

"Well, here comes my partner in crime," Spike stood up as Robbie was escorted from the emergency room in handcuffs. "This is where I get off."

"Hey, thanks again," Jo called out. "I owe you guys one."

"Nah," Spike smirked as he called over his shoulder. "This one was our pleasure."

"So what do we do now?" Natalie asked. "Just wait?"

"Are they going to tell us how she is?" Tootie worried.

"So far, it's like I don't exist here. No one's telling me anything. But I ain't leaving until I see her with my own two eyes. I don't care if it takes all night."

* * *

After about an hour, Mrs. Garrett went to inquire about Blair at the desk. She shook her head when she came back. "They don't want to breach patient confidentiality," she reported. She looked at Natalie and Tootie. "You two should run along home. No point in all of us staying."

"I want to be here for Blair," Natalie said.

"No. Mrs. G. is right, Nat. You two go home," Jo agreed. "There should be someone at the house in case her friends hear about this and call."

Jo was curled up on an emergency room couch. David Warner sat down next to her. He gently shook her shoulder.

"What?" Jo called out, as she was jolted from sleep.

"Relax, Jo, it's me. Blair's father."

"Where's Mrs. Garrett?" Jo rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"I gave her a break. Sent her to the cafeteria. The poor woman was hovering over you like mother hen. She looked exhausted."

"Oh," Jo yawned. Suddenly, she snapped to, remembering where she was and why. "How is Blair?" she blurted out anxiously.

"She's pretty beat up: a concussion, a couple of cracked ribs, some facial lacerations and bruising," he reported.

"Oh no, not her face! She's going to hate that!"

"Nothing that can't be fixed," David reassured. "They don't want to move her just yet. They're running tests to make sure there is no bleeding on the brain."

"Bleeding on the brain! Christ! That sounds awful!"

"It's just a precaution, Jo. Try not to worry."

"How can I not worry? They won't even let me in to see her, for crying out loud!"

"Well, she's unconscious now. She wouldn't even know you were there."

"She'd know I was there," Jo muttered.

"Listen, Jo, I need to talk to you about something."

"What is it?" Jo asked hesitantly.

"When I walked in here tonight, I saw you sitting with a beatnik, a lesbian, and a biker in handcuffs. What's going on here? I've always considered you to be a very level-headed girl."

"They're friends, Mr. Warner. They were with Blair when this happened."

"Yes. I'm aware of that. I've made some inquiries."

"You made inquiries?"

"My security staff has been gathering information. It seems you and my daughter have been spotted around town holding hands. Apparently, there was some sort of gay gathering a while back and you two were seen kissing? Jo, I have to ask you," David cleared his throat. "What is the nature of your relationship with my daughter?"

"Um, that's something you'll have to ask Blair. It's not my place to talk to you about this."

David leaned back and sighed. "I think I get the picture." He patted Jo's hand. "I have never interfered in my daughter's personal life and I support any decision she chooses to make concerning that. It's just the type of people you two are consorting with."

"The lesbian you refer to is Chris Lowell. She's one of your high society set."

"Chris Lowell of the New England Lowells?" David's eyebrows rose. "I didn't recognize her at all."

"The beatnik is the son of the Chief of Police; and that purple knot on his head? He got that trying to defend your daughter. Perhaps your people should have inquired more thoroughly!" Jo huffed.

"And the biker?" David queried.

"He's, um, just a biker," Jo conceded.

"What does that sort of ruffian have to do with you and my daughter?"

"Not even a casual acquaintance, Mr. Warner," Jo's patience with this inquisition was wearing thin. "But just so you know, that ruffian probably saved Blair's life!"

"Call me David, please, Jo," he attempted to calm her. "I don't mean to upset you. I just want to make sure that Blair is safe from now on; that she's not associating with the wrong sort. She is the future of Warner Industries."

"Jesus, David, she's more than that! She's your daughter!"

David exhaled a long, drawn out sigh. "She's my little Princess, Jo. I could not be prouder of her. I love her so much."

David's statement was somewhat disconcerting to Jo. Here was Blair's inattentive father, sitting next to her professing how much he loved and cared about his daughter as she recalled the many times she had witnessed Blair being bitterly disappointed by him. "You might remember that a little more often," she scolded him.

"Whatever do you mean by that?" David was perplexed.

"You say you're going to show up to see her and then send a limo driver in your place with flowers, or furs, or jewelry. Don't you know how much she loves you? How bad that hurts her?"

"I haven't been the greatest Dad, I guess. But, I do love her, Jo. I'm going to make amends, starting now," he promised. "As soon as she's well enough to travel, I'm flying her back to Manhattan."

"You're _flying_ her?" Jo was stunned.

"I'll use one of the corporate helicopters. That's how I got here so fast with her mother."

"Guess it was lucky you were both in the City."

"It was fortunate we could get here so quickly. Medical decisions had to be made and there was no one here to make them."

" _I_ was here," Jo stated sadly. "But no one asked me. They haven't let me near her."

David took stock of her as she sat dejectedly beside him. "I'll make sure you see her before we leave," he extended his arm around her. "I can see how much you love her, as well."

"Thanks, Mr. Warner. I do love her. I'm going crazy here waiting to see her."

"Come with me," he took pity on her.

"Really?"

* * *

He walked her through the door of the treatment area to where his daughter was. Monica was perched precariously on a small emergency room stool beside her daughter's bed. Jo was shocked when she saw her. Blair's head was wrapped in a bandage. There was an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose and she was hooked up to several beeping monitors. What she could see of her face was bruised, cut and swollen. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

"Blair?" she whispered.

How could this have happened? After years of not admitting their feelings, it had been a mere month since their relationship had blossomed into something more, something beautiful. Jo flashed on everything she loved about Blair's face. Her smile was stunning. When Blair was happy, genuinely happy, there was nothing like it in the world. She glowed. It was as if she moved the sun from its rightful place in the sky to shine especially bright upon all those around her.

Yet, it was not her smile that Jo loved best. There was a look of wonderment that crossed Blair's features sometimes when she was curious or unsure of something (not that she would ever admit that she was unsure of anything!). It was a countenance Jo had seen often over the last few weeks, as their relationship had continued to evolve. Without the need to dissemble in each other's presence, they had opened up and, apparently, Blair had been anxious to discuss many things. Her eyebrows would raise a little, her lips slightly parted. Then, there would be the most incredibly vulnerable look in her eyes as a question would begin: "Jo, do you think…" followed by any number of things she had been curious about from social unrest, to human sexuality, to Barbie's hair. Jo had grown to love this expression. Darling wasn't a word she used often, but it was darling. Now she could barely recognize her face.

Jo flashed upon a conversation she had had with Blair not a week earlier as they sat near a stream on campus.

"Jo, do you think hatred of gays is based in misogyny?"

There it was: that look of open vulnerability.

"How could it be misogyny?"

"Well most, if not all, violence against gay people is carried out by males who want to reinforce gender norms."

"So it reinforces their masculinity?"

"In their minds, yes."

"So being feminine is so bad that if a man exhibits such traits, he must be beaten down?"

"Precisely!"

"Then how do you explain attacks on lesbians?"

"We are challenging gender norms, as well."

Jo remembered being amazed at Blair's easy embrace of the word lesbian.

"So, it's still social control, either way. If you challenge male dominated social norms, it's threatening to patriarchy. I guess you're right, Blair. Hatred of gays does have something to do with misogyny."

"I'm so pissed off by this," Blair threw a rock into the stream. "Now, I'm not only objectified as a woman, but despised as a lesbian. Not the path I had envisioned for myself."

"Regrets?"

"Not a one," she flashed her dazzling smile.

One of the very best things about their new relationship, Jo had thought, was the open discussion of subject matter they never could have broached before. Both of them were extremely intellectual. It was a side effect that pleased her greatly. Jo thought of Blair's sweet smile on that day and looked at her face now.

All of this was for what… hugging another woman outside a gay bar? This was so outrageous, so unfair! Jo's mind was reeling. Blair had been right: she knew that society was still fiercely heterosexual. But neither of them had expected this kind of virulent reaction. And then, on top of that, they wouldn't let her in to see Blair here at the hospital without intervention from her parents. Perhaps there were more problems involved with a gay lifestyle than she had anticipated. Not that she, in truth, had thought much about the ramifications of being in a gay relationship, at all: not since she had first made love to Blair. She only knew it made her happy; as happy as she had ever been. And now this…

"Look what they've done to my baby," Monica started to cry.

"Jesus, Blair," Jo touched her hand lightly. The heiress stirred.

"I'm going to go check on Mrs. Garrett," David informed his ex-wife. "You've been here for hours. Why don't you take a break and come with me?"

"I don't want to leave her, David," she looked up at him.

"It's all right, Jo's here," he reassured as he winked at the young woman.

"Very well, then," Monica agreed reluctantly. "But only to use the restroom and get a cup of coffee. Jo, don't leave her."

"I won't," Jo didn't look up at Blair's Mother, her gaze focused intently on her lover. She sat down and gently picked up her left hand. "I can't leave you alone for a second. Look what happens." She touched a strand of golden hair. "Why didn't you just come home with us? None of this would have happened. You're such a drama queen, Blair." She softly kissed her cheek and let her head rest upon the pillow. She remained in this position until someone in blue scrubs approached.

"Are you her friend?" a clean-cut young man asked.

"I am," Jo lifted her head, eyes filled with unshed tears.

"I understand this was a gay-bashing," he said flatly. "Is that true?"

"Are you a doctor?" Jo inquired.

"I am," he nodded. His demeanor changed slightly. "I'm an intern," he corrected.

"So, Doc," Jo eyed him defensively, "what difference does it make _why_ she was beaten?"

"It doesn't, medically," he cleared his throat. "I just find this very upsetting."

"To say the least," Jo sighed.

"If you're her friend…"

"I _am_ her friend," Jo was once again defensive.

"I meant if you're her girlfriend, there's some things you need to know."

"Such as?"

"There may be some memory loss."

"What?"

"The type of blow she took; she may have some short-term memory loss. Psychologically, you should be prepared that she may block out this whole incident and everything surrounding it."

"But, she'll recover, right?"

"Physically, yes."

"Thanks, Dr. Cryptic."

"I'm sorry," he seemed unsure. "I'm still working on my bedside manner." He approached her so that he was close enough not to be overheard. "I'm gay. I find this very upsetting."

"What's your name?" Jo sighed.

"Bret," he replied.

"Thanks for the heads-up, Bret," Jo took his hand. "You're the first person at this hospital who has filled me in on anything, so I appreciate it."

"You have a right to know," he stated resolutely.

"Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"I can't break doctor/patient confidentiality. I've already told you more than I should have," he shook his head as he peered at Jo sympathetically. "But I will tell you that she's going to be moved into a private room for the night. They probably won't allow her to be released for a couple of days."

"Oh dear," Mrs. Garrett's intoned. "She'll have to be hospitalized?"

Jo hadn't noticed her presence.

"Mrs. G! They let you back here?"

"With a little help from some influential friends," she nodded at David and Monica as they flanked her.

"Well," Mrs. Garrett touched Blair's bed, "she doesn't look so bad. Blair's a strong girl. She'll be just fine."

Jo stood up and hugged her. At long last her tears ran free. Mrs. Garrett held her and patted her back as she sobbed. "Let it go," she soothed. "You just let it go."

"She's going to be moved to a private room," David informed. "No need for you two to stay."

"But I want to stay!" Jo stated vehemently.

"Jo, there's nothing you can do here," David informed. "We're going to see her to her room and then check into a hotel."

"Someone's got to stay with her," Jo protested.

"I'll stay with her until morning," Monica offered. "I'm her mother, it's my job. Would you be so kind as to relieve me then?" she smiled sweetly at Jo.

"You've been here all night," Mrs. Garrett reasoned. "You're overwrought and tired. It's time you come home with me."

"But," Jo protested. "I want to stay with her. What if something happens?"

"I'll look after her," Bret reassured.

"Jo?" Mrs. Garrett arched her brow.

"Alright, then," Jo gave in. "But I'll be back first thing in the morning."

* * *

When Jo returned the next day, she found Monica outside Blair's room talking intently with a doctor. A large man in a business suit stood in front of the door.

"What's going on?" she asked as the doctor departed.

"When Blair first woke up this morning. She was extremely disoriented."

"What does that mean?"

"They say it's normal," Monica assured her. "She's been clearer since, but it was very disconcerting."

"I hate this whole thing," Jo shook her head.

"As do I," the older woman agreed. "We're going to take her to my penthouse in the City when she's released. I'm hiring a staff of nurses to care for her."

"You'll get the best?"

"The best that money can buy!" Monica affirmed.

"Who's the suit?" Jo nodded at the man blocking the door.

"David insisted on posting a security guard," Monica rolled her eyes. "Listen," she placed her hand on Jo's arm, "she's sleeping now, but why don't you go in and see her? I'll take a break."

Blair was indeed asleep when Jo walked in. She sat by her bed and took her hand. The blonde stirred as her eyes fluttered open. She gazed at Jo vacantly.

"There you are, Blondie," Jo gave her a huge smile.

"I have some questions," Blair looked at her earnestly.

"Shoot!"

"Are you the day nurse or the night nurse? I'm getting confused."

"What?" Jo gave her a quizzical frown.

The heiress eyed her with a blank stare.

"No, seriously, who are you?" she asked.

Jo felt a wave of panic wash over her. "Wait, you really don't know who I am?" she stammered nervously. Blair continued to gaze at her without a trace of recognition in her eyes.

"Blair, it's me… Jo!" she stated emphatically.

"Do I know you?"

"Know me? You've only lived with me for the last five years!" Jo was truly frightened.

"I am fairly certain I have never been associated with you in a personal manner," her eyes began to flutter shut again.

"Jesus, Blair, snap out of it! It's me: Jo! Your one and only! Your girlfriend, your sparring partner, your lover!"

"You cannot be serious," Blair's eyes opened slowly. "I am Blair Warner," she looked momentarily confused, "Or at least that's what my parents tell me. Heiress and society darling, whatever would I be doing with the likes of you?"

"Apparently nothing too important if a little bump on the head could make you forget everything!"

"Oh wait," Blair pondered. "Jo is it?"

"Yesss…" Jo drew out deliberately.

"Are you the one with the motorcycle who can't keep her filthy, grease monkey hands off my amazingly firm, yet voluptuous, body?"

They both smiled.

"Very funny, Blair!"

"I had you going," she laughed and then immediately winced in pain.

"It hurts a lot, huh?" Jo was concerned.

"Only when I laugh," Blair replied. "Literally."

"Then quit making jokes, dork!"

"I'm a mess, Jo."

"You're beautiful, Blair. You'll always be beautiful to me."

"Thanks for saying so," she sighed. They were silent for a moment. "You know what I'd like, Jo?"

"No. Tell me."

"I'd like, just once, when I do something horrendous to my face and almost die, to be able to remember it! Falling asleep at the wheel, being bashed by a baseball bat, and my only memory is of a ringing in my ears. No time to watch my life flash before my eyes… again!"

"So you don't remember any of it?"

"No. Not really."

"Just as well. But you should know it was your own big mouth that got you into this."

"I guess I need to learn forbearance."

"If you want to stay in one piece, it might be a advisable."

"I understand I owe my life to our new biker friends."

"I told you bikers were cool!"

"Daddy's hiring a lawyer for them to get the charges dropped."

"Glad to hear it."

"You're the only biker I care about."

Jo gripped her hand as tears welled up in her eyes. "I was so scared, Blair."

"I'm going to be fine, Jo. No crying."

"I'm not crying!" Jo bit back her tears to no avail as one streaked down her cheek.

"Of course not," Blair smiled sweetly. "Listen, my ribs will heal. The knot in the back of my head will heal, although my hair's going to be a freight for awhile."

"Maybe you could get some wigs, like what you wanted for your Barbie dolls when you were little."

"I didn't want wigs, Jo. I wanted Barbie's hair to grow like a Chia Pet, so I could cut and style it."

"That's right, I remember now: Ch-ch-ch-chia Barbie! Which still doesn't make sense, by the way, Blair. Barbie with green hair? And when you cut it, she would be bald. It's not like the seeds are going to grow back again or anything."

"Punk Rock Barbie," Blair nodded gingerly. "I still like the idea."

"Well then," a wry smile was beginning on Jo's lips, "maybe you could shave your head, plant some chia seeds and see what happens!"

"No," Blair smiled back amused. "I think I'll just cut it, or something."

"Whoa, wait a minute, did I hear that right? Blair Warner is going to cut her hair?"

"Nothing drastic," Blair looked at her dubiously. "Just a little adjustment to make it more manageable."

"Ya had me worried for a second there," Jo shook her head. "You are so lucky that you didn't break your nose or lose some teeth or have a cracked skull or something, Blair. From what I hear you fucking face planted!" Jo eyed her with amazement.

"I think I must've caught myself, last second. How else can I explain this?" Blair held up her right hand, which was swollen and bruised.

"Wow! And you can't remember doing that? That's like Wonder Woman reflexes!"

"I know, right?"

"Or maybe your hand got stepped on in the scuffle."

"Oh." It was obvious Blair hadn't thought of this. There was disappointment in her voice.

"But knowing you," Jo tried to reassure, "I'm pretty sure you did the Wonder Woman thing!"

"I do prefer that explanation," the blonde brightened slightly.

"Naturally!" Jo acknowledged.

"Anyway, the lacerations and bruises on my face should heal without a lot of scarring, Daddy tells me. He says if they don't, we'll fix them."

"Cosmetic surgery?"

"Uh huh. But, I don't know. A few more scars might give me some character, right?"

"You've got enough character, Blair. I think you're amazing," Jo said softly as her eyes filled with tears again.

"I think they're going to move me to my Mother's place in Manhattan."

"It's for the best, Blair. They're hiring nurses to care for you and all."

"I want _you_ to care for me."

"I want that, too. But I couldn't do as good a job as medical professionals."

"All I need to get better is you."

"My internship starts in a couple weeks. I'll be in New York then."

"I don't want to be without you for two weeks, Jo. I need you."

"Blair, I want nothing more than to be with you, too. But, be reasonable. You know I don't make a good nurse. Remember when you sprained your ankle?"

"I thought you were a great nurse."

"If I was such a great nurse, how come I didn't know when you started faking it?"

"I just wanted your attention, Jo. I didn't know how to get it."

"You always had my attention."

They looked at each other affectionately.

"Oh no, Jo!" Blair suddenly called out.

Jo was startled half out of her wits. "What?" she exclaimed, eyes wide.

Blair held up her left wrist, which now sported a hospital identification band.

"Where is the leather bracelet you gave me?" Tears began to well in her eyes.

"Hey, now, no crying, remember? They had to put all your stuff around here somewhere."

Jo looked around the room. Spying a metal storage closet in the corner, she jumped up and walked over to it. Opening the door, she came across Blair's possessions in plastic bags.

"Here's your belongings," she called out.

"Is it there, Jo?"

"Give me a minute. I have to open these bags."

She unzipped the first bag and began pulling out the contents.

"You're Gucci bag is a little worse for wear, as is your scarf. But, hey, your shoes look good! Let me see what else is in here…" Jo stopped talking. Her eyes were suddenly drawn to the other bag in the closet. Through the clear plastic, she could see Blair's shirt. What was once a pristine white silk blouse was now barely recognizable. It was stained dark red: drenched in Blair's blood. Jo felt a weakness in her stomach, as she blanched. She was momentarily dizzy and had to steady herself against the closet door.

"What's wrong, Jo?"

"Oh, uh, nothing," she dissembled before continuing her inspection of the bag she had opened. "Here it is!" She turned back to Blair holding up the bracelet with a relieved look upon her face.

"Bring it here," Blair called out anxiously. "I want to see it."

Jo placed the bracelet in Blair's hand.

"Oh, Jo, one of the little blonde stones is missing. Go check the bag again!"

Jo retreated to the closet and pulled all the contents of the bag out. No stone. She eyed the other bag. _No way. I'm not opening that bag. Why didn't the frickin' police take the shirt? Isn't it evidence or something? Gonna' mention this to Gary's Dad._

"I'm sorry, Blair, no stone."

Blair looked crestfallen.

"Hey don't worry," Jo comforted. "I made it. I can fix it!"

"Really, Jo?"

"Really, Blair," she squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Oh, darling, you're awake!" Monica entered the room with bluster. She immediately noticed Jo and Blair holding hands. "How are you feeling now? Any headaches? Trouble breathing?"

"No, Mother, I'm fine, really."

"You are not fine! Just look at your face! When I get you home, you will be completely cared for, pampered, and looked after properly. I promise!"

"I don't want to be cared for and looked after properly," Blair sighed. "I'd rather be looked after by Jo."

"Hey!" Jo said defensively.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that," Blair offered. "I just want to be with you."

Jo looked at Monica helplessly. "I've tried to talk to her."

"It's difficult, at times, I know," Blair's mother sighed, exasperated. "Darling, you need to be looked after by professionals."

"Like I said," Jo added as she gave Blair a scolding look.

"Fine then," Blair was defiant. "As soon as we get back to Manhattan, I'm going to shave my head!"

"For heaven's sake, why?" Monica was appalled. "Jo, talk some sense into her!"

"Don't look at me," Jo shrugged.

"It must be the concussion talking," Monica concluded. "I'll have the finest hair stylists in the City come and consult!"

"I don't want that, Mom. Don't you get it?"

"Don't be a brat, Blair. Your Mom's just looking out for you," Jo advised. "So is your Dad, for that matter. Besides, if you're pouting, we can't really tell because of the face thing." Jo moved her hand in a circular motion in front of her own face.

"I don't care. I want to stay here!"

"Of course," Monica was getting upset. "Here: where you consort with bikers and hippies and all sorts of undesirables and were beaten to within an inch of your life!"

"Undesirables?" Jo questioned.

"Of course I didn't mean you, Dear. It's just that the police believe my daughter was gay bashed! Blair, explain to me how that happened. Why, on earth, would anyone mistake my beautiful, feminine daughter for a lesbian?"

"Monica," Jo stated calmly, "we shouldn't be upsetting her."

"No, Jo," Blair spoke up. "It's okay. Mother needs to know."

"Know what?" Monica looked confused.

"Maybe I should step out for awhile," Jo began to rise.

"No, Jo," Blair grasped her hand. "Stay. I want you here."

Jo sat back down beside her bed.

"What's going on here?" Monica looked from one girl to the other apprehensively.

Blair exhaled a deep breath, which caused her to wince.

"Oh dear, you're in pain again," Monica exclaimed as she sat down beside her. "No need for explanations. Just try not to talk."

"Like that will work," Jo mumbled under her breath.

Blair closed her eyes momentarily as she swallowed her pain and continued.

"This is important. You need to listen me," she placed her right hand delicately into her mother's as she gazed at her. "Mom, I love Jo and I have probably done so from the moment we first met."

"Of course you love Jo. I know that." She patted her daughter's injured hand gently. "We all love Jo," she smiled sweetly at the other young woman.

"No, Mother. I'm in love with Jo."

"I don't understand," Monica looked confused.

"Jo is my lover. You've had enough of them. What is it that you don't understand?"

Monica shook her head and looked completely baffled. "Why, with all the boys you have to pick from, would you choose this?" she stammered.

"It's not a choice, Mother. She's the only person who's ever looked inside me and seen the truth of who I am. She loves me for me. She touches my heart. I can't be without her."

Monica eyed Jo. "You feel this way, as well?"

"Yes," Jo said quietly. She was not entirely comfortable with discussing her relationship with Blair in front of her mother. "I do," she managed.

"Eloquent as usual, Polniaczek," Blair gazed up at her in an amused manner.

"I love Blair with all my heart: she's everything to me," Jo smiled down at her girlfriend. "Better?"

"Still needs some work, but you're getting there," Blair squeezed her hand.

"Well then," Monica said softly. "This is most unexpected." She fell silent.

"Mom?" Blair coaxed her to speak. "What are you thinking?"

There was a prolonged silence as Monica gathered herself.

"I think," she began slowly, "that if my daughter wants to be with another woman, especially one as fine as Jo, it's nobody's business but her own. And if anyone wants to bash her for that, they'll have to come through me next time!"

"Whoa!" Jo declared. "I didn't expect that! So you approve?"

""Approve is a strong word in this situation," Monica frowned. "I certainly don't approve of my daughter being beaten for her lifestyle choice."

"It's not a choice, Mom," Blair corrected.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm new at this. Please be patient with me. As you know, homosexuality is not a great matter of concern in our circles. _Ca ne fait rien._ "

"I tried to explain that to Jo, but she wouldn't listen," Blair smiled wanly.

"With the French again," Jo complained.

"But, I have to be honest. If it were anyone else, but Jo, I might have a problem."

"So you _don't_ have a problem because it's me? Now I'm confused," Jo interjected.

"I had already accepted you as part of our extended family. I always felt you were a very good influence on Blair. It was clear that you two loved each other. I had thought it to be a sisterly kind of love. That it's more? How is that anyone's concern but yours and Blair's? I couldn't be happier to welcome you into our family as, what is it you gay people call it?" she looked at Blair. "Your partner?"

"Girlfriend works for now," Blair said. "Thanks, Mother."

"Of course, your father will not like this at all. As heir to his business empire, he will want you to marry some Ivy League twerp to help you run the company some day. No controversy, definitely no scandal, all business and nothing but with him," she stopped mid-rant and gazed at both the girls. "You know," she smiled slyly, "the more I think about this, the more I like it!"

"Good to have you on board, Mother," Blair smiled. "Even if it is just to spite Daddy."

"I love you, my beautiful daughter," she gently touched her cheek. "All I want is for your happiness."

"That's all I want, too," David Warner chimed in as he entered the room. He stood behind Jo and placed his hand on her shoulder.

Blair looked up from her hospital bed. Her mother was seated beside her, resting her palm on her cheek. Jo was at her other side holding her hand. Her father was standing behind Jo with his hand on her shoulder. It looked like the perfect family portrait to Blair: the family she had always wanted, together at long last. And all it took was for her to be almost beaten to death to make it happen!

"I guess I'm outnumbered," Blair conceded. "I'll go stay with Mother in Manhattan. But just until I'm better."

"Then it's settled," David said.

"David?" Monica queried coquettishly. She looked like the cat who had swallowed the canary as she eyed him smugly: "Did you happen to know that our daughter is gay?"

"Of course," David smiled self-assuredly. "Didn't you?" he winked at Jo.

Jo tilted her head toward Blair as if to say: _what's up with your parents?_ She wasn't sure, but she was fairly positive that she was uncomfortable with David Warner's new habit of winking at her.

Jo stayed with Blair for most of the day. Mrs. G., Natalie and Tootie all came and spent a long while with her, as well. Gary and Chris returned for a visit. Blair's old chum, Boots St. Clair, even dropped by for a time. Jo was amazed that Boots didn't scream and run when she saw Blair's face. She didn't stay long, but while she was there, she behaved herself. _"Girls got more to her than I gave her credit for!"_ Jo thought to herself.

News of the attack on heiress, Blair Warner, seemed to have spread quickly through the high society set. Flowers were delivered constantly throughout the day. Probably by society sycophants trying to kiss up to Blair's father, Jo figured. It felt odd to her to be on the inside of Blair's family bubble. How many of these flower-sending snobs wouldn't want Mr. Warner patting them on the back, winking at them and insisting that they call him David? Maybe some of them were sincere in their concern for Blair. Jo hoped that at least a few were. But, jeez, the hospital room looked like a frickin' flower shop after awhile! What a waste of resources, she reflected.

The newspapers reported the attack as a random mugging turned street brawl. No mention of the real motive was included. It was thought Blair might be a target because of her wealth. Jo had to wonder how much of the press was under David's control. But she did have to admit to herself, that she was grateful that her relationship with Blair wasn't outed publicly. Definitely _not_ the way she wanted her parents to find out!

Eventually, it became clear that the patient needed her rest. Blair's parents actually gave the girls a moment alone to say goodbye. _Maybe they're not so bad after all,_ Jo had thought. There were tears, a gentle kiss, and the next day… Blair Warner was gone.

…And so began the toughest two weeks her young life.


	5. Sweet Sorrow

Jo was sitting in Gary's studio, examining small yellow stones to match the one absent from Blair's bracelet. She had been looking through his collection of gems and stones for over 45 minutes.

"Are you sure you're going to be able to fix this Gary? I mean, I kinda' promised Blair."

"Sure. If we can find the right match." Gary was looking through an assortment of stones, as well. "Ah! What do you think of this one?"

"Close," Jo scrutinized the small object. "But not quite there."

"You know," Gary offered, "it might be easier if you just go back to where you got the stones in the first place."

"Nah. I got them from a shady wholesaler friend of my cousin's in the Bronx. Cut me a hell of a deal. Do you really think I could afford a real garnet any other way?"

Gary shrugged.

"Anyway, that guy's long gone, I'm sure."

"That's a shame," he offered.

"Hey! I think I found it!" Jo suddenly exclaimed. She held the stone against the bracelet for Gary to inspect. "Well?"

"Practically perfect!" he agreed.

"So how long will it take you to fix it?"

"I can do it right now, if you have time to wait."

"I don't have another class today," Jo replied. "And with Blair gone, I'm kinda' looking for ways to fill up empty hours."

"Don't finals start this week? Nothing to study for?"

"Yeah. But nothing that really challenges me. I'm not too worried about my finals. My mind is elsewhere…" her voice trailed off.

"She's only been gone a day, Jo. It will get better," he consoled. "Have you talked to her?"

"Yeah. She called yesterday. Wanted to let me know that she got there all right. But she sounded kinda' funny, ya' know? Distant."

"Probably the concussion. They make you a little fuzzy."

"Yeah. That's probably it," Jo fiddled with some beads. "It's just, ya' know, I…" her voice drifted off.

"You miss her."

"Yeah, I do. It's kinda' funny," she chuckled softly.

"What is?"

"She used to irritate me so much. I mean, we'd really go at each other and without much provocation. Now I feel lost and lonely without her."

"Love is funny that way."

"There was this one time, my favorite teacher died. She was more than just a teacher. Even though she was older than me, she was my friend. We had so much in common. I think I had a little crush on her, she was so great."

"Did Blair know this?"

"That I had a thing for her? Nah. But, she knew I was very attached to her. So, anyway, when she died, I was crushed. It was really hard for me to accept someone so young and vibrant with so much left to give dying like that. I just kind of shut down. Blair didn't say anything. But she started picking up some of my chores, cleaning up after me, helping me out with little things. I wouldn't usually let her do that. But I was so out of it, I was just glad she was there. She was supporting me, holding me up without ever mentioning it. We never discussed it and went back to usual after a while. But that's the Blair not too many people know: the kind and giving Blair, the selfless Blair."

"That's a sweet memory," Gary said. "Thanks for sharing it with me."

"I'm not usually such a big talker," she shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed that she had opened up so much in front of him.

"These aren't usual circumstances."

"No, they're not," Jo shook her head. "When are you going to be finished?"

"Right about now," Gary held up the bracelet. "Good as new!"

"Oh my God! You fixed it? But how did you do that so fast?"

"I've been doing leatherwork for a long time now."

"Gary! I could kiss you!" Jo jumped up and locked him in a bear hug.

"Well, I _am_ an honorary lesbian, remember?"

"Um, it's going to stay honorary," Jo said as she released him. "But nice try."

"Hey, what's going on in here?" Chris called out from behind them.

"Look, Chris. Gary fixed Blair's bracelet! "

"Oh, that's wonderful, Gary! I know how much that bracelet means to Blair."

"Ah shucks, it was nothing, ma'am," Gary shuffled his feet in a humorous manner. "What a nice surprise to see you," he continued. "Wasn't expecting you today."

"I came by to check on you," she turned to Jo. "Gary was knocked-out cold by those assholes, as well."

"You didn't tell me," Jo gazed at Gary with concern.

"It was just for a moment. I was up before the ambulance arrived. I have total recall of events after that, which is a really good sign. I don't even think they got a clean shot on me, like they did on Blair."

"Geez, I had no idea," Jo stammered. "I'm so sorry."

"It was no big deal. They let Chris hold my hand in the treatment room and everything!"

"I told them I was his wife," Chris smiled broadly.

"That wouldn't have worked for me," Jo was suddenly downcast.

"What?" Gary asked.

"Telling them that I was Blair's wife… it wouldn't have worked for me. I couldn't get in to see her until her parents gave permission."

"Does suck," he shook his head.

"Yeah, you might want to turn in that honorary lesbian card," Jo smirked. "Doesn't come with a lot of fringe benefits."

"Then, we'll just have to settle for the not-so-fringe benefits," Chris nudged her with her hip. "For now…" she winked.

Jo couldn't resist a smile. "I think I can handle that… for now."

"I _so_ want to be a lesbian," Gary sighed.

* * *

"Mother!" Blair called out plaintively.

"Your mother's in her bedroom with the baby," Antwoine, the day nurse, informed her gently. He was black, late twenties, maybe thirty, Blair thought. He possessed handsome features in an elegant sort of way with extremely high cheekbones, kind eyes and close-cropped hair. Blair found him to be quite agreeable and attentive. But, right now, she wanted her mother.

"Will you please go get her, Antwoine?"

"Certainly, Miss Warner," he replied.

"And stop calling me Miss Warner. I'm Blair, okay? Just plain, old Blair."

"Whatever you want, Miss…" he corrected himself, "Blair."

"Thank you, Antwoine."

The nurse returned with Monica a moment later. Monica was holding Blair's little sister in her arms.

"Mother, no!" Blair was alarmed as she turned her face into her pillows. "I don't want Bailey to see me like this!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Blair! Bailey is only seventeen months old. She has no idea what a normal face is supposed to look like."

"Of course she does, Mother! She sees your face everyday. I don't want to scare her!"

"Well," Monica sighed, "I've given the nanny the day off. I don't know what you expect me to do with your sister."

"Let Antwoine take her for awhile. I need to talk to you."

Monica looked at the nurse. "Would you mind terribly?" she queried.

Antwoine's face lit up. "I would love to hold her, Mrs. Warner."

Monica handed Bailey to Antwoine who immediately began to bounce her gently in his arms and coo. The child smiled at him and giggled.

"Take her to the nursery, will you Antwoine?"

"My pleasure," he continued his baby talk as he exited the bedroom.

"Love at first sight," Monica shrugged. "How are you feeling, darling?"

"When is my head going to stop hurting, Mother?"

"The doctors really don't know, Sweetheart. They say it's unpredictable with concussions."

"But, Mom, everything hurts. I just can't get comfortable."

"I know, Darling," Monica sat on the edge of her bed and patted her hand. "Try to be brave. You'll feel better soon."

"Mother?"

"Yes?"

"Why did they hurt me? What did I do to make someone hurt me like this?" She began to cry a little.

"You didn't deserve this, Blair. No one does. There are just some very angry people out there and you happened to cross paths with a few of them. Vulgar, despicable animals! I would throttle them myself, if I could get my hands on them."

"It makes me feel bad about the world," Blair sobbed softly. "I feel uncertain and unsafe. I've never felt this way before and I don't like it."

"They will be brought to justice for what they've done to you, you can be sure of that! And you are completely safe here."

"Mother?"

"Yes?"

"Where's Daddy?"

"He had business on the coast, remember? I told you that."

"Oh." Blair didn't remember.

"He'll be by to visit soon enough. He loves you, Blair."

"Where's Jo?"

The question threw Monica for a second. Was her daughter so confused that she didn't know where she was?

"Um, Jo's back in Peekskill."

"Why isn't she here?" the young woman asked sadly. "She said she loved me."

"I'm sure she does love you, Blair. But, I believe it's finals week at Langley. You wouldn't want her to fall behind in her studies."

"No," Blair sighed. "I wouldn't want that. But, I miss her, Mother."

"I know you do. I'm sorry."

"Would you stay with me now? Until Jo comes, will you stay with me?"

Monica activated the intercom on Blair's nightstand. "Antwoine?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Will you entertain Bailey for awhile longer? I'm going to spend some time with my older daughter."

"It would be my pleasure, Ma'am."

With that, Monica proceeded to lie down next to Blair. She held her until her daughter drifted into sleep.

* * *

Jo pulled her bike up in front of the duplex Blair had rented for them. She let herself in with the key she got from Gary. She walked around the empty space, checking each room, imagining what it would look like furnished. She saw Blair in every room: smiling, flipping her hair, laughing. Finally, she sank down on the hardwood floor of the living room next to the cold fireplace and rested her back against the wall. She recalled the first time she saw the place with Blair.

"Oh Jo! Isn't it just delightful?"

For once, Jo couldn't disagree. "It's nice."

Gary's Mom had just finished showing them the apartment and was waiting outside in a chair on the deck, giving the two younger women privacy to discuss their options.

"I think it's just perfect," Blair continued to enthuse. "A bedroom upstairs with an en suite…"

"An on what?" Jo looked at her quizzically.

"An en suite. You know… a bathroom off the master bedroom?" Blair rolled her eyes.

"Oh yeah," Jo lied. "I knew that."

"The view from the bedroom is just magical!" Blair continued.

"Hey, Blair, I like the woods as much as the next person, but they ain't magical."

"And the view down here of the town and the river? Beautiful!"

"It is at that," Jo nodded her reply.

"So?"

"So… let's go for it, Blair. Let's fill out an application."

"Really, Jo?"

"Really, Blair."

With that, Blair gave her a huge hug and kiss. "I love you so much, Jo!"

"Eh! Cut the mushy stuff. This apartment is business."

"It is, isn't, Jo? It's like a contract between us, a shared agreement to be with each other, forsaking all others!"

"Um, didn't I just tell you to cut the mushy stuff? It's not like we're getting married. We couldn't even if we wanted to."

"I know that," Blair brushed her arm. "But it is the start of our adventure together!"

"What are you talking about? We've been having adventures together for years now!"

"I meant as a couple, silly!"

"Alright, Blair. I'll give you that."

They both sank to the floor, their backs against the wall and stared out the window.

"Happy, Jo?"

"Happy, Blair."

They joined hands.

"Jo, do you think it's sinful to have more than one house?" she gazed at her wonderingly.

"Sinful? That would presuppose a belief in the existence of God, Blair. You said God doesn't exist as I recall."

"What do I know? God could exist. I mean, I'm not omniscient."

"What? First I heard."

"Very funny," Blair nudged her. "But it _has_ occurred to me that it might be wrong to have so many dwellings, while others have none."

"You mean like your family?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I don't know. This place makes me so happy. I just think it's sad that there are so many people in the world who don't get to experience this."

"What you gonna' do about it?"

"Social justice lawyer, remember?"

"You know, you could do a lot to right wrongs as head of Warner Industries someday."

"Well, that's what Daddy wants. Oh, not for me to right wrongs, but to take over the company down the line."

"It's a big responsibility."

"I think about it a lot, Jo."

"Hey, that's way off in the future. For now, you get to be you!"

"But, I want to start helping now. Maybe I'll start volunteering in the homeless shelter after classes."

"Whoa there! Who are you and what have you done with Blair Warner?"

"I'm starting to see things differently, Jo. Being with you helps in that regard. And if I'm going to assist these people some day, I need to know what the issues are, don't I?"

"You could help them now. Sell a few baubles, donate part of your allowance to buy blankets…"

"They need blankets?" Blair asked, shocked.

"Yes, Blair," Jo shook her head. "They need blankets."

"I could do that. But I'm thinking big picture. What are the causes of homelessness? What is the solution?"

"Well, you could start with _your_ President Reagan!"

"Oh please, Jo. He is not _my_ President Reagan. But, he is a very nice man when you meet him personally."

"Wait… you've met Reagan?"

"On occasion."

"Jeez, Blair. What am I even doing with you?"

"Making me very happy!" she squeezed in tighter next to Jo and laid her head on her shoulder. "Meanwhile, I want to work on homelessness. Blankets, huh?"

"Ya got a good heart, Blair," she rested her head on top of her girlfriend's.

The barking of a neighbor's dog shook Jo from her reverie. She removed the leather bracelet from her pocket and fondled it lovingly. What did Blair do to deserve such a beating? How could anyone hurt such a sweet, beautiful girl? She pulled her knees up to her chin, rested her head upon them and began to sob inconsolably: a slight figure, hugging herself on a cold floor, alone in her grief.

* * *

"What day is it Antwoine?"

"It's Wednesday, Blair."

"I had a final today, I think."

"Please try not to worry about that. Your parents have arranged for you to make up your finals when you're better."

"At least I have that to look forward to!"

"Well now, you're regaining your sense of humor, Miss Blair! That's an excellent sign."

"Please don't call me Miss anything anymore, Antwoine. My grandfather was in the Ku Klux Klan, for crying out loud. I can't have black people cow-towing to me!"

Antwoine was stunned, and for a second, dropped his formal affectations. "You say what? Your grandfather was a Klan member?"

"We didn't know, until after his death, but yes."

"Wow! You could knock me over with a feather right now!"

"I know, right?"

"Okay," he recovered his professional demeanor. "Listen to me: you are not responsible for what he did."

"I know, but here's the thing… you never really know people, do you? He was so kind and attentive to me. I loved him. Then it turns out he was some kind of heinous racist. How could I be so wrong?"

"You were a child when you knew him?"

"Yes."

"Girlfriend, you are not responsible for what that old geezer did, got me?"

"I just feel like there's so much hatred in the world."

"There is also much love, Blair. Don't forget that."

"I miss my girlfriend."

"Who?"

"I have a girlfriend. Her name is Jo. Does that shock you?"

"Moi?" Antwoine put his hand to his chest and rolled his eyes extravagantly.

"You're gay?"

"Now you know I am not permitted to discuss personal issues with you!"

"But… you're gay?"

"Said the kettle to the pot," Antwoine winked.

"So you understand! I need a phone in here to call Jo. Why won't they let me have my phone?"

"The ringing, for one thing. A person recovering from a concussion shouldn't have a lot of loud noises disturbing them."

"But, I'm starting to feel better, I think. Tell my mother it's okay for me to have my phone! Please, Antwoine…"

"Let's start with some light first. I'm going to open the curtains a bit. It's a beautiful, sunny day. I want to see how you react to light."

"Um, okay," Blair whispered hesitantly.

Antwoine opened the curtains slightly. Blair immediately recoiled.

"What am I, a vampire?" she complained.

"It's quite common for concussion patients to have sensitivity to light. Nothing to worry about. We'll try again tomorrow," he reassured.

"And the phone?"

"I'll discuss it with your mother."

"You know, I could just get up and walk down to the living room and make a call!" Blair stated defiantly.

"With broken ribs _and_ dizziness? Uh-uh. Not on my watch, sister. You get up to use the restroom, with assistance, that's it."

"Fascist."

"I've been called worse" Antwoine put his finger in the air and bobbed his head. "Now you keep being a good girl and I'm going to ask that lady nurse to help you with a bath later."

"Oh, promise?" Blair asked with exaggerated enthusiasm.

"Until your girlfriend gets here, that's my best offer."

Blair crossed her arms across her chest and immediately winced in pain.

"See. There you go, trying to be all defiant and such," Antwoine shook his head. "That's what you get! I bet you're even trying to pout, aren't you?"

"Can't you tell?"

"Sorry, sweetie, not with the bruises still healing. But, I bet you got a good one!"

"Pout?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I've got the best!"

"I knew that. You just try to relax. I got your meds ready, unless you need help to the little girl's room."

"Nope. Drug me."

"Here you go," Antwoine filled her glass with water and placed a couple pills in her hand. "You just relax, Blair. All my patients get better real fast. I am an excellent nurse."

"You know what, Antwoine?"

"What's that?"

"I think I could really like you. I mean, when you were just being yourself, instead of all formal and nurse-like, it was like talking to a normal person again. And since I'm to be a prisoner in my mother's house, I would appreciate normal conversation every once in awhile."

"I like you, too, Blair. Now, let's just swallow our pills."

* * *

Jo had just finished a final for her political science class and was opening the door to the house. She was anxious to find out if Blair had called, and was very surprised to find a crowd awaiting her.

"Hey, Jo," Nancy walked up to her and gave her a hug.

"What's up, Nancy? I haven't seen you since…"

"Eastland graduation, I know. A bunch of us got together to come up here to offer our support."

"Wow! Hey Sue Ann, Molly, Cindy! How are you?"

"We've made a card for Blair and bought her a gift," Molly informed.

"Yeah, she's in Manhattan with her mother," Jo responded.

"We know," Sue Ann spoke up. "We thought you could give it to her when you see her."

"We wanted to be here for you and Natalie and Tootie and Mrs. G.," Cindy chimed in.

"This is really sweet, you guys," Jo was truly moved. "I can't thank you enough for coming. It means a lot."

"Nat and Tootie have been filling us in," Nancy said.

"I bet they have," Jo nodded at the pair as they beamed smiles at her. "So, whadda' ya think?"

"None of us have a problem with you and Blair," Nancy affirmed. "We completely support you."

"Well, that's wonderful," Jo sighed in relief before giving a stern glance to Nat and Tootie. "It's also good to know that I won't be having to come out to anyone as my two best buds are always going to be doing it for me!"

"Hey!" Natalie defended herself. "We've known these girls forever. Did you want me to lie until you got home?"

"No, Nat. Look, I'm just a little overwhelmed, right now. Maybe you could cut me a break."

"Anything for you Jo," Natalie threw her arm around her as she proffered a dish of pastries. "Cannoli?"

"Um, no thanks, Nat. Hey, did Blair happen to call today?"

"Nope," Tootie spoke up. "But her Mom did."

"Monica called?" Jo asked anxiously. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. She said not to worry. Blair is fine. But she wants you to call her back."

"Your own mother called," Mrs. Garrett appeared from the kitchen with a fresh plate of hors d'oeuvres. "She would like a call from you, as well."

"Seems like I got a lot of Moms to call," Jo shrugged.

She took a seat at the dining room table and socialized as much as she could tolerate. It _was_ awful sweet that Blair's old friends from Eastland had shown up to support them and she enjoyed catching up with their lives. But, there came a point where she felt overwhelmed. She excused herself to the kitchen on some flimsy pretext and let out an anguished cry.

"Why, God, why?"

"Are you alright, Jo?"

Cindy had followed her.

"Yeah, just a bit overwrought, you know?"

"I can imagine. I just want you to know, that I'm really happy that you and Blair are together. I just didn't think it would be you."

"Why's that?"

"I remember hearing about passionate fights between you two. I thought you hated each other."

"It probably seemed that way. But, I never hated Blair."

"She tried to shame me for being gay once. Kind of ironic, huh? It was back in the day, before you got here."

"What?"

"Yep. She _did_ apologize and hug me."

"Sounds like Blair."

"Do you think she was just going through her own issues with the whole thing; over compensating, maybe?"

"Most likely."

"I'm glad she resolved them. I'm just heart broken about what happened to her.

It's horrible. I love her a lot. I've always loved her. I'm just glad she found someone to make her happy."

"You haven't been carrying a torch for her, have you?"

"I had a crush on her for awhile, but I got over it. I've got my own girlfriend now."

"Good for you, Cindy," Jo affirmed. "I'm glad you found someone to make you happy, too. So, you're in the city now, right?"

"I am."

"I'll be there this summer. We'll get together, okay? I think Blair would be particularly glad to see you."

"Sounds good, Jo."

"And Cindy?"

"Yeah?"

"I am sorry about what happened. But that was then…"

"And this is now," the other girl smiled brightly before leaving Jo alone with her thoughts.

* * *

It was 9 p.m. before the house settled down and the company departed. Jo had been waiting all evening to make her calls. But, now she had to decide whom to call first. Monica, obviously! Her own Mom wouldn't mind her calling a little later.

"Oh, hello, Jo! So nice of you to return my call," Monica's blithe voice intoned on the other end of the line.

"How's Blair?" Jo cut to the point.

"Not progressing as swiftly as we had hoped."

"Is there a problem?"

"Her nurse seems to think it would be beneficial if you could pay her a visit."

"I got finals this week, Monica."

"Yes. I'm aware of that. I wouldn't impose upon you, but it might help Blair's recovery if you could come on the weekend."

"Well, yeah, I guess I could ride over on my bike after my final on Friday."

"That won't be necessary, dear. You see, Blair's car is there. We were wondering if you would be so kind as to drive it down for us?"

Jo almost dropped the receiver. "The Porsche?"

"Yes. I believe you're right. It _is_ a Porsche. The keys should be in Blair's room somewhere."

"I know just where the keys are."

"Oh, wonderful! It's settled then. I'll have our driver take you back on Sunday, if that works for you."

"Count on it, Monica. My final is in the morning on Friday. I can be there by the afternoon."

"You're an angel, Jo. Thank you so much!"

"Hey… the pleasure's all mine, believe me."

"Ta-ta until then!"

"Um, yeah, bye."

Jo dialed her own mother.

"Oh Jo, I was so worried. I read in the paper about Blair. Why didn't you call me?"

"Sorry, Ma. Everything's been crazy up here. I shoulda' called."

"Is she going to be all right? I've been praying for her."

"It looks like it. But she got beat up pretty bad."

"The papers say it was a mugging, is that correct?"

"There's a little more to it than that. I'll explain later."

"Oh well, I'm just relieved to hear she's going to recover. I know how close you girls are."

 _No you don't, Ma._

"I'm actually driving her car down to Manhattan for her this weekend. She's with her mother there. They think it will be good for her to spend some time with a friend."

"Oh! I'm sure it will be. That's so good of you, Jo! Will you have some time to drop by and see me?"

"I'd like that, Ma."

"Maybe on Sunday. We could go to mass together and have brunch."

 _Church… great._

"Okay, Ma. I'll try to work that out. It would be nice to see you, too."

Jo began to tear up as she realized just how much she needed her mother at that moment. She wanted nothing more than to just fall into her arms and cry for a week. But could she tell her the truth?

"I love you, Jo."

"I love you, too, Ma," Jo's voice cracked as tears streamed down her face.

"Are you okay, Sweetie?"

"Yeah. I'm just a little emotional these days, ya know? I'll see you on Sunday, okay?"

"Looking forward to it, Sweetheart. Good night."

"Good night, Ma."

* * *

Jo pulled Blair's Porsche 911 Turbo out onto the highway. There was light traffic, so she gunned it. The rear engine roared to life as she experienced the thrill of pure speed and power. She had opened the roof, so her hair blew wildly behind her. One advantage the Porsche had over her bike was no helmet. She could understand now why Blair was not as tempted by the lures of motorcycle riding as she was. What a rush! This was almost better than her bike… almost. _I could get to New York City in 30 minutes in this thing!_ She suddenly remembered that the cops would not look favorably on someone shattering the speed limit in a red sports car so she, reluctantly, backed off the accelerator. Wouldn't do to get a ticket in Blair's car.

Traffic was a mess in Manhattan. But it didn't bother Jo as much as usual, seeing as she was sitting in a beautiful vehicle, with the top down, gazing up at the skyscrapers. When she pulled into the garage of Monica's building, an amiable young man in uniform greeted her.

"Hi there. I'm Scott. You must be Ms. Polniaczek."

"Um, yeah. You were expecting me?"

"We were! I'll take Ms. Warner's car from here. I was told to give you the key to the penthouse elevator."

Jo was reluctant to release the steering wheel. "So we're going to trade keys, huh?"

"Those were my instructions."

Jo finally exited the vehicle and slid the keys into Scott's hand. She couldn't believe she was just handing over the keys to such an expensive car to a total stranger in a garage. _Rich people._ He handed her the penthouse key.

"Alex," he called out. "Show Ms. Polniaczek to the penthouse elevator." He turned back to Jo. "I'll let the Warner's know you're on your way up!" he smiled cheerfully.

Another young man in uniform escorted Jo to a private elevator. He showed her how to use the key. The doors slid open and Jo stepped inside. There was only one button: Penthouse. Jo pushed it and she was on her way up. When the door opened again, she stepped out into Monica's living room and her jaw dropped. The place was fantastic! It was a huge, tastefully decorated room with floor to ceiling windows running along the entire expanse.

"Hello?" she said meekly, half expecting her voice to echo.

"Oh, Jo, there you are!" Monica called out as she came down a winding stairway to Jo's right.

"I made it," Jo greeted her.

"It's so good to see you," Monica hugged her. "Is this your first time here?"

"Uh-huh," Jo managed, still overwhelmed by the opulence of the penthouse.

"Then you simply must see the view," Monica led her over to the windows.

"Wow. I've never seen Central Park from this high up before!"

"It _is_ nice, isn't it?"

"You can say that again," Jo was still a bit overwhelmed by the setting. After a few minutes of gawking at the park and the skyline, she finally recovered herself. "How is Blair?"

"I'm worried, Jo. She doesn't seem quite herself. The doctors say it's normal, but nevertheless, I'm concerned about her emotional well-being."

"She was attacked and beaten. It's going to take some time for her to process that."

"You're right, of course. Let me take you to her room. I'm hoping your presence will help." She led Jo to the staircase, but turned to talk to her again before they went up. "Jo, I don't want to offend you, but I don't know how to put this tactfully, so I'm just going to say it: Blair's not up for any hanky-panky yet."

Jo blushed from ear to ear. "Jeez, Monica, of course not! I'm here to help her heal, if I can. I have no other motives. Is that what you think of me?"

"Oh dear, I have offended you. I'm so sorry. I hold you in the highest regard. But Blair will be very excited to see you. You may have to rebuff my daughter."

Jo thought that she would never get used to how rich people talked so freely about sex. "Thanks for the warning, Monica. No hanky-panky."

There was a large landing at the top of the stairs with doors on both sides.

"You can stay in one of the guest rooms," Monica offered as she opened a door to a large bedroom. "All our rooms our en suite."

" _Aha. I know what that means!"_ Jo thought.

"But, my guess is Blair will want you to stay with her." She opened the last door on the right and walked into a sitting area. The curtains were open to accommodate the fabulous view. There was a couch, a recliner, a TV and a stereo. An Apple Macintosh computer sat on a desk in the corner. There was fireplace that joined two rooms! Throw pillows were strewn helter-skelter about the room.

" _That's Blair,"_ Jo thought.

"This is Blair's sitting room," Monica reported. As she opened the door to the adjoining bedroom she called out, "Blair! Look who's here!"

Jo entered the dimly lit room. Full-length curtains were drawn on two sides. She saw a form buried under an avalanche of covers. "Blair?"

"Jo, is that you!" Blair sat up.

"Yeah, it's me. Why in the hell is it so dark in here?"

"The light hurts my eyes."

"I'll be downstairs with Bailey," Monica informed. "I'll let you two get reacquainted," she smiled as she gently touched Jo's arm.

"Thanks, Mom," Blair replied. As Monica shut the door, Blair focused her eyes on Jo. She felt an immediate surge of energy course through her veins. Her heart jumped in her chest as Jo made her way over to her bed and sat next to her. Jo reached out and held her in a long, loving embrace. "I've missed you so much, Blondie. God, it's good to see you, to hold you."

"I've missed you, too, Jo. Desperately. They wouldn't even let me have a phone to call you!"

"Well, I'm here now." She rubbed her back gently and kissed her head.

"Lie down beside me, Jo. Just hold me, okay?"

"You got it, Blair."

They reclined together quietly for fifteen minutes or so, each comforted by the proximity to the other. All of a sudden, Jo remembered something.

"Blair?"

"Yes, Jo."

"I've got something for you." She reached in her pocket and pulled out the bracelet, dangling it in front of Blair's eyes.

"Oh, Jo! You fixed it!"

"With a little help from Gary, yeah."

"Put it on, Jo, please!"

Jo fastened the bracelet around her left wrist. Blair held her arm up and admired it dreamily. "I'm yours again," she sighed.

"You never stopped being mine, Blair."

"I know, but now I have a reminder of your love. I'll sleep better."

"Me too," Jo held her again.

"Shit!"

"What is it, Jo?"

"I left my duffle bag in the Porsche."

"No big deal. We'll just have Scott send it up."

"There's a card and a present for you from some of your old Eastland friends."

"Oh, Jo, that's so sweet!"

"Hey, what did you do to Cindy Webster, by the way?"

"Nothing, why?"

"She remembers a time you tried to shame her for being gay. You must've of traumatized her or something. I mean, really, Blair?"

"Oh. That," Blair was chagrinned. "Well, she was running against me for Harvest Queen and a lot of the other girls were egging her on. I had to do something to shake her confidence."

"Seriously? Jesus, Blair!"

"It was wrong, okay? I don't know why I did it. I apologized and gave her hug and everything."

"Did you know she got into modeling? She's a looker now, Blair, _and_ openly gay."

"Really?"

"She admitted to having a crush on you back then."

"Really?"

"You didn't notice?"

"Maybe," Blair sighed. "Maybe I noticed a little. That's probably what made me uncomfortable with her being a tomboy and all. I wasn't ready to accept those feelings in myself. Besides, she was just a kid to me, anyway."

"So, when I came along…"

"Completely different."

"I'm glad you got over it."

"You've read Maya Angelou, right Jo?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"She says when you know better, you do better. I know a lot better now, thanks to you."

"Aah, let's not get all maudlin here. Hey, let's try opening the curtains," Jo changed the subject.

"I don't know, Jo. My nurse opened them a couple of days ago and the light still hurt my eyes a little."

"Aw, you're being a baby. Let's give it another shot."

"Well, okay, but if I don't like it, we're closing them again."

Jo parted the curtains and was once again stunned by the view. "Geez, Blair, you can see Central Park, the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building…"

"And my face," Blair finished her sentence.

Jo turned to look at her. "How's it feel?"

Blair thought for a minute. "I think it's better, Jo," she smiled.

"Good. Let's leave the curtains open. How can you have a bedroom with a view like this and _ever_ have the curtains drawn?"

"What do you think of my face, Jo? Is it better?"

Jo exhaled. How was she supposed to answer that question? It was very similar to the do-these-pants-make-my-butt-look-fat question. No easy answer. "You know, Blair, bruises get worse before they get better. It's just a couple of black eyes, a contusion on your forehead, a split lip, abrasions on your cheeks and nose and, um chin. There's also a couple of lacerations on the left side of your face. I wonder how that happened? Anyway, I'm sure by next weekend you'll look fine!"

"I'm hideous!" Blair covered her face with a pillow.

"Knock it off, Blair. This is a temporary situation. Besides, I thought you didn't care about being perfect anymore."

Blair lowered the pillow. "I _don't_ care about being perfect. But that doesn't mean I want to look like a monster!" She pointed at her face.

"It's just a few bruises. They'll be gone in no time. Besides, I've missed your face, bruises and all. You look beautiful to me."

They eyed each other sweetly.

Just then, the intercom clicked on. "Jo," Monica's voice announced, "I need help in the kitchen. Would you come down here for a second?"

"Get one of the staff to help, Mother," Blair replied.

"It's a mechanical thing, Blair. I need Jo's help."

"I'll be right there," Jo called out.

Blair snapped the intercom off. "It's a trick, Jo. My mother's up to something."

"What? You're being paranoid. She needs me to fix something. What's the big deal?"

"We have a whole staff of people to help around here. Why does she need you?"

Jo shrugged. "Um, Blair… where _is_ the kitchen?"

"When you go downstairs, it's to the right of the elevator. But don't let her co-opt you into anything, okay?"

"Be right back, Babe," she kissed Blair. "That is, if I don't get lost trying to navigate this place!"

* * *

She found Monica holding Bailey at the bottom of the stairs. "What can I help you with, Monica?" Jo said brightly.

"I want you to take the Bailey up to see her sister."

"Is that all? No problem!"

"I have to warn you, Blair has been refusing to see Bailey. She thinks her face will scare her. But, I think it will be good for her to spend time with her little sister."

"Blair was afraid you were up to something," Jo sighed. "But I happen to agree with you." She reached out for the toddler and headed up the stairs with her.

"Someone wants to see you, Blair," she announced as she entered the bedroom.

"Oh, Jo, no! I don't want to scare her. I knew Mother was up to something!"

"Quit being a donkey, Blair. She's your little sister. Christ, she wouldn't even be here without you. She's not going to be afraid of you."

"Don't use the Lord's name in vain in front of the Bailey, Jo."

"Says the non-believer."

"All the same, what if we give her back to Mother and she says, "Christ, Mama" or something like that?"

"Okay, ya got a point. It's an idiotic point, but a point nonetheless. Now will you say hello to your little sister?"

Jo crossed the room to Blair's bed.

"Bwair," Bailey called out and reached for her as they approached. Jo sat down on the bed with her. Amazingly, the little girl reached out and touched Blair's face. Her little hand remained on her cheek for a moment. "Bwair," she said again.

"Oh Bailey, I'm so happy to see you!" Tears streamed down her face past a radiant smile. Bailey threw her little arms around Blair's neck and hugged her. Blair held her for a long moment. At last, she began tickling Bailey as they both laughed.

Jo sat on the bed as the toddler began to crawl towards her. She kept standing up to walk, but fell every time on the uncertain footing of the bedclothes. She was so cute! Jo examined the scene: Bailey giggling and crawling around on the bed, Blair actually smiling, all of Manhattan out the window, not to mention a Porsche in the garage… she could feel herself being seduced by her surroundings. Maybe being rich wasn't so bad, after all. _Get a grip on yourself, Polniaczek!_

"Let there be light!" Antwoine burst into the room with panache. "You're feeling better, I assume?"

"I _am_ feeling better. Antwoine, this is…"

"Jo," he interrupted as he shook her hand. "No need for an introduction. I've heard all about you! Jo, the valedictorian, the fearless Amazon on her motorcycle whose smile could light up Broadway! Jo, who can fix anything! And indeed, you have! You've brought sunshine, a child and smiles into Blair's room. A minor miracle, if you ask me!"

"Jo, this is Antwoine, my day nurse. I guess I've told him a little bit about you."

"Um, nice to meet you Antwoine," she wasn't sure what to make of him.

"I told you my all my patients get better real fast, didn't I, Blair? That's because I always know exactly what each one needs."

"So this is your doing, Antwoine? I mean Jo being here and all."

"I may have suggested it to your Mother. But, the truth is, I think she had already thought of it herself."

"So did you get what I asked for?" Blair inquired.

"You know I did!" He retrieved a Neimen Marcus bag and placed it on the bed.

"I sent Antwoine out shopping for me."

"Criminy, Blair! Don't you have enough stuff already?" Jo complained as she picked Bailey up.

"Not this!" Blair pulled a lavender jogging suit out of the bag. "Oh, it's perfect, Antwoine!"

"Not your usual style," Jo commented.

"Antwoine said if I was feeling better, I could start moving around the house. I needed something comfortable to wear because of my injuries."

"I got one in baby blue and another in spring green, as well. All pastels, to match the season," Antwoine informed.

"What did you get for yourself?" Blair asked.

"Your parents are paying me well, Blair. I don't need you to be buying me things. Wouldn't be proper."

Blair eyed him in an exasperated manner. "I told you to get yourself an outfit. My parents wouldn't even know, much less care."

"Sorry, Blair. But I am a professional. I have my principles."

"A man of principles," Jo nodded at Antwoine. "I like it!"

"So, if Jo helps me put this on, can we go downstairs, Antwoine?"

"So long as I'm with you!"

Jo winced a little when she lifted Blair's pajama top and saw the bruises on her rib cage where she had been kicked.

"What's the matter, Jo?"

"Um, nothing. I just don't want to hurt you, is all."

"You're not. I told you that you were a good nurse and you are."

Jo tried not to let on, but she was sickened by the brutality of the attack. She helped Blair dress without comment. They came down the stairs: Blair leaning on Antwoine's arm for support, Jo holding Bailey's hand as she toddled behind. Monica's was thrilled when she saw them.

"You're up! Oh darling, I'm so happy!" She looked at Jo, her eyes brimming with tears and mouthed a silent "Thank you."

The rest of the day was spent playing with Bailey, eating popcorn, watching movies, and just talking. Antwoine had left before supper as the night nurse, Hildie, took over. Blair had informed the cook that Jo was Italian on her mother's side, so an Italian meal was prepared. When it was finally time for bed, Blair had a request of her mother.

"Mom? Can Bailey stay in my room with me and Jo tonight?"

Monica was hesitant. "Well, the nanny will have to prepare a bottle for her and make sure she's changed."

"So?"

"I'm afraid you won't be comfortable enough with her in your bed, dear. I want you to get a good night's sleep and heal."

"Please, Mother?"

"Oh, very well then," Monica relented. "But, Jo, if there's any problem, I want you to bring Bailey immediately to me!"

"Will do!" Jo piped up.

"Bailey likes to be read to as she falls asleep _._ Do you think you could read to her?"

"I would love to," Jo smiled.

Jo climbed into the king sized bed next to the two sisters. Bailey was sucking on her bottle. Blair had swallowed a couple of meds Hildie had given her before retreating to her room for the night. She began to read a book to them.

"In the great green room, there was a telephone…"

"Which is more than you can say for _my_ room," Blair interrupted.

"Shush, Blair."

"And a red balloon," Jo continued. "And a picture of the cow jumping over the moon. And there were three little bears sitting on chairs, and two little kittens, and a pair of mittens, and a little toy house, and a young mouse."

Jo looked down at Bailey, whose eyes were fluttering shut as the bottle dropped from her mouth.

"And a comb and a brush and a bowl full of mush."

"What I wouldn't give for comb and a brush… my hair's a fright!" Blair interrupted again as she yawned.

"And a quiet old lady who was whispering "hush"…" Jo emphasized _hush_ as she glared at Blair. "Goodnight room, goodnight moon, goodnight cow jumping over the moon," she continued to read, uninterrupted, until the end of the story. "Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere."

She closed the book and glanced over at the sisters. Both were sound asleep with their mouths slightly open.

"Goodnight, Bailey, goodnight, Blair" she whispered as she turned out the light and pulled the covers up over her. Feeling completely peaceful and content, she was about to drift off to sleep herself, when suddenly her eyes flew open.

 _Damn. I still have to tell Ma!_


	6. Bright Lights, Bronx Pity

Jo sat on the penthouse terrace far above Central Park and the hoi polloi of the city below. Not that there was much riff raff passing by on the street down there in this neighborhood. Blair's mother had decided to have brunch on the terrace, which, it turned out, was placed on top of the penthouse with a separate elevator to boot! Antwoine had insisted that Blair wear sunglasses, so they all did, even Bailey, who looked absolutely adorable. Blair had insisted that Antwoine join them, so he did. He was catching on pretty fast that it was pointless to argue with her when her mind was set, Jo noticed.

The terrace had plants in pots, greenery and statues everywhere. It was like a garden on top of their house, for cryin' out loud! Not only that, there was a green house and a fountain… a friggin' fountain! Jo would have felt totally out of place… if not for the presence of Blair. She made her feel as if all of this was normal as she sat close to her and joked with Antwoine while holding the baby in her lap. Monica, too, made her feel quite at home, treating her as a member of the family.

What a fabulous time she was having amongst the rich and privileged! _"What's wrong with me?"_ She felt a twinge of guilt.

David Warner dropped by that day. He had a boatload of gifts for Blair, as usual. To which Blair replied: "Daddy, you shouldn't have!" But accepted them all anyway. To his credit, Jo thought, he sat for a long while and talked to her privately in the living room. Dinner was a Polish meal this time around, also in honor of Jo. By the time they were ready for bed, Jo felt very comfortable with the Warner's, their house, their family.

"What did you talk to your Dad about?" she asked as she climbed into bed next to Blair.

"He wanted to know how I was, is all."

"Really? That's all?"

"No. He wanted to talk to me about my future. He'd rather I finish college down here in the city."

"So… are you considering it?"

"No way. I'm finishing up at Langley. I'm not going to let some homophobic punks dictate my life choices. If I do that, they win. I made sure Daddy knows that."

"Good for you, Blair."

"After that is law school and that could be anywhere."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere that's close to you."

"I like the sound of that. But, Blair, do you really want to be a lawyer? I mean, you could move right into your father's company, learning the business so that you can take over one day."

"I can do that with a law degree, as well."

"True enough."

"Where's this coming from, Jo?"

"I just think you could have a lot of security working for your Dad."

"Worrying about my safety? You're starting to sound like him. Look, Jo, life is all about taking chances, exploring possibilities."

"I know that Blair. I'm just a little worried about you because of who you are. You could be targeted again."

"I could be targeted right here in Manhattan. Besides, I like the academic life. I think I have a few more years of marinating to do, before I'm ready to be thrown into the fire."

"Yeah, we've got the rest of our lives to be grown-ups, right?"

"So… " Blair began slowly, "the other thing Daddy wanted to talk about," she cleared her throat… "is us."

"What did you tell him?"

"That I love you. That you're the one."

"Damn, Blair, you told him that?"

"Why shouldn't I? You are the one," she reached over to fondle her.

"None of that, Blair!" Jo quickly rebuffed her. "I promised your mother!"

"What?"

"Yeah. I promised your mother… no hanky-panky!"

"My mother had the nerve to talk to you about sex?"

"Aah, she's just trying to look out for you, Blair. I mean, with your concussion and all, what if we had sex and there was a sudden rush of blood to your head. I don't know, you could stroke out or something. It could be fatal."

"Death by sex, right," Blair huffed annoyed. "I'm sure it happens all the time. Anyway, it's not my Mother's place to say."

"Then who's? Antwoine's?" Jo joked.

"At least he's a medical professional!" Blair began fondling Jo again. "C'mon, it's been so long!"

"Fine!" Jo was absolute as she rebuffed Blair's advances once again. "When Antwoine give's the okay we can have sex!"

"Killjoy!" Blair pouted.

"Blair!" Jo exuded. "I saw the pout! You're face is getting better!"

"This isn't funny and I'm not happy," Blair buried her face in her pillows and surrounded herself with her blankets.

"Hey," Jo nudged her, "I could read you a night-night story again! Worked before!"

"That was the drugs. I didn't take my pills tonight."

"Why not?"

"Hildie said, considering my progress, let's see how I did for a night."

"So," Jo kissed her forearm, the only visible evidence of Blair's presence, "let's see how you do?"

There was no response. Jo suddenly remembered something. She jumped up and pulled a stuffed toy out of her duffle. "Hey, I brought your frog," she made kissy noises as she peppered Blair's arm with fake kisses from the toy.

The pillow slowly came down. Blair looked at the stuffed toy and couldn't control a smile that began to creep across her lips. "Give me that," she demanded as she reached for the stuffed animal. "Mr. Frog," she hugged it happily as she eyed Jo. "This doesn't mean you're forgiven," she arched an eyebrow.

Jo smiled as she snuggled in next to her. "Okay, Blondie," she yawned as she extended an arm around Blair and Mr. Frog. "Good night."

* * *

Jo awoke the next morning with turbulent thoughts. She was a bit envious of how easily Blair's parents seemed to accept their new relationship. She knew her own parents were going to struggle with it. Why were things always easier for the rich? Perhaps it was precisely because life was so easy for them that there was room to accommodate unexpected circumstances. They could afford to be understanding. They didn't have to struggle to survive, not like her family did.

For her parents, daily life was a grind. They lived paycheck to paycheck. If the rent wasn't paid, they were out on their ass. They owned very little. But, one of the things they did own was their culture and their community. No one could take that away from them. Much of that culture and community had to do with the Catholic Church.

It wasn't like they didn't have good times, because they did: family gatherings, barbeques, dances, sports or just hanging out with friends. Yet, many celebrations and holidays were often connected with the Church Community, as well. The Church served as more than just a set of spiritual beliefs and a physical place to worship. Being Polish Catholic or Italian Catholic was a lifestyle and there was great ethnic pride in both communities.

Rich people had a huge safety net. They could afford to take chances. The poor people in her neighborhood had the Church. One little tear in the fabric of that safety net could be the unraveling of the whole thing. What would they do then? What would they have to call their own?

Jo knew the Catholic Church's teachings on homosexuality: hate the sin, love the sinner. But she was way beyond thinking of her relationship with Blair as sinful. How could something so beautiful not come from God? Her mother wouldn't see it that way. She was hard core Catholic. The Church was more than just her community; it was her salvation. Her tether to the Church's teachings was her lifeline. It made her earthly suffering bearable… her poverty noble. Her reward was in heaven. She would not risk her immortal soul by blessing her daughter's relationship with another woman, no matter how much she loved her.

"Jo," Blair murmured as she rolled over and lightly swatted her arm. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Thinking too loud."

"How can my thought processes wake you up, Bair? That's flat-out crazy."

"I can tell when you're not sleeping, when you're fretting."

"Whatever…"

"What is it this time?"

"I was just thinking about how easy it is for you rich folks to accept gay relationships and hard it is for poor folks. I mean, you're parents didn't skip a beat. They barely batted an eyelash!"

"Oh, that's right," Blair sat up in bed, "you're seeing Rose today."

"She's going to freak."

"So, you're going to tell her?"

"Probably not today. I don't want the big blow-up and then have to be back in Peekskill for a week. No, I'll wait until I'm down here for the summer."

"What makes you think there's going to be a big blow-up?"

Jo gave her a disbelieving look.

"Okay… let's hear it," Blair placed a pillow under her head and stared intently at Jo.

"The Church is everything to her, Blair."

"You're everything to her, Jo."

"No. You don't get it. Religion plays this big part in her life, in a way that rich people just can't understand."

"Excuse me? I know lot's of religious rich people."

"Yeah… name one!"

"Rose Kennedy."

"But Rose Kennedy is Irish Catholic. There's an ethnicity involved that informs her beliefs." Jo paused. "Wait a minute, you've met Rose Kennedy?"

"On occasion."

Jo shook her head slowly before continuing. "For your people, Blair, there's lots of room in their lives to accept different lifestyles so long as it doesn't threaten their power structure. It's like noblesse oblige and all that."

"Jo!" Blair exclaimed excitedly.

"What?" Jo replied in an irritated fashion.

"You spoke French again! I think I'm rubbing off on you!"

"Oh, you've rubbed off on me a lot," she responded as they both smiled at each other. Blair reached out and laid her hand on Jo's arm.

"I'll be there for you. Whatever you need."

When it was time for Jo to go, Blair held her tight.

"Come up next weekend? You'll stay with me… until your internship starts?"

"Yeah. But check with Antwoine on stuff before I get back, okay?"

"I will," Blair whispered into her ear. She released her and stood by her mother.

"Jo, this is Jimmy, our driver," Monica introduced Jo to the man standing near the elevator.

"Pleased to meet you, Jimmy," Jo shook his hand.

"The pleasures mine, Ma'am," Jimmy nodded.

"Jimmy, you are to take Jo to the Bronx, before driving her back to Peekskill."

"Yes, Mrs. Warner," Jimmy nodded again.

Monica turned to Jo, unshed tears in her eyes, "I can't thank you enough," she held her tight. Jo hugged her back.

"Come back next weekend?" Monica released her.

"For sure," Jo smiled.

Monica kissed her cheek. "Take good care of her, Jimmy."

"I will, ma'am."

* * *

Jo entered the elevator with the driver. He was a stout man, mid-thirties, with close-cropped sandy hair and bright blue eyes. They didn't talk on the way down. When the doors opened on the garage, Scott was waiting.

"Car's ready, Jimmy," he flipped him the keys.

"Thanks, Scotty."

There was a silver four door Mercedes sedan sitting a few feet away. Jimmy walked over to it and opened the door to the back seat.

"Um, no way, Jimmy. I'm not sitting in the back, like I'm some kind of royalty, or something," Jo protested.

"This is how it's done, Ma'am."

"Look," she continued, "we're going to the Bronx. How are you supposed to find your way around if I'm not sitting up front with you giving directions?"

"I'm from the Bronx, Ma'am. I know my way around."

"No way! You're from the Bronx?"

"I am."

"First of all, if you're from the Bronx, you should know better than to be calling me _Ma'am_ , and secondly, I'm not sitting in the back like some pampered princess! Get over it, got it?"

Jimmy smiled. "I got it." He opened the passenger side of the front door. "Jo?"

"Thanks, Jimmy," she slid inside.

"Hey, Ma!" Jo hollered as she walked through the door of her mother's apartment. She was immediately struck by how small it suddenly seemed. The whole place was only slightly larger than Blair's bedroom.

"Jo?" her mother called out.

"I'm here!" she smiled, her heart overflowing with happiness as they hugged. "I've got a car downstairs waiting to take us to church."

Rose looked confused. "You've got a car downstairs?"

"Yeah, Blair's mother's driver. But he's cool. He's from the Bronx!"

"So, we're to take a ride to church courtesy of Monica?"

"Don't start, Ma. Yeah, we're going to church courtesy of Monica. If you'd rather walk, we can do that."

"No," Rose smiled. "A ride will do just fine. But I don't like accepting charity from rich people, you know that."

"It's not charity, Ma. I did them a favor by driving Blair's car down here, so they're just returning the favor. Besides, you like Monica, right?"

"I have nothing against her."

"Then it's settled!"

Jimmy opened the car door for Rose in front of the church. "Ma'am," he nodded.

"Oh my," Rose was not used to being treated so regally. She was slightly flustered. "Um, thank you, Jimmy," she nodded back.

"Hey, Jo," Jimmy called out. "I'm going to park the car and slip into the back of the church. Haven't been to mass today."

"Sounds good, Jimmy. Come sit with us if you can find us."

After mass, the trio stood on the church steps.

"We're going to Maria's Garden for brunch, Jimmy," Jo informed.

"Great. I'll drop you there. Hey, my Mom lives in this neighborhood. Would you mind if I go visit while you eat?"

"You should visit your mother," Rose smiled. "Pick us up at…?" She looked at Jo.

"Two o'clock?" Jo shrugged.

Jo and Rose sat in the garden restaurant and ordered their food.

"It's so nice here, don't you think, Jo?"

"It is nice, Ma. It's so great to see you. Things have been rough."

"Tell me," Rose inquired. "How is Blair?"

"She's going to be okay now. But she got beat up pretty bad."

"That poor girl. What happened anyway?"

"She was getting a drink with some friends and when they went outside, these assholes jumped them."

"But why?" Rose persisted. "Was it a bad part of town?"

"No. It was just some punk jerks with an axe to grind or something to prove to each other. They've been arrested and charged with assault and battery."

"I still don't understand why anyone would hurt Blair. She's a sweet, lovely girl, despite her money. Oh!" a thought suddenly occurred to Rose. "Was she targeted because of who she is?"

" _Wow,"_ Jo thought, _"she did get beat up because of who she is, just not in the way Ma thinks."_

"It's a possibility, they're still investigating," Jo told a half-truth.

"Poor Blair," Rose shook her head in sympathy. "You're a good friend to her, Jo."

"She means a lot to me, Ma. I love her."

"I know you do, Honey," Rose placed her hand over her daughter's.

Jo was tempted to come out to her right then and there. But she thought the better of it. It was so nice just being with her mother with no conflict involved.

"So, next week, when I come home, I'm going to go spend some more time with her."

"That's fine, Sweetheart, just so long as it doesn't interfere with your internship."

"It won't."

They ate and chatted amiably until Jimmy returned to pick Jo up. They hugged as they parted.

"I love you, Honey."

"I love you, Ma." Jo felt tears begin to run down her cheeks as she said goodbye.

* * *

Natalie, Tootie and Mrs. Garrett were all over her when she arrived home.

"How is Blair?" Mrs. G. asked.

"Is she feeling better?" Natalie inquired.

"What's her face look like?" Tootie blurted indelicately.

"Blair's fine. She is feeling better. Her face is still a mess," Jo answered all three.

"You must be emotionally exhausted," Mrs. Garrett gazed at her with concern. "I've prepared a feast for you… all comfort food."

Jo's eyes filled with tears again. "Aw, Mrs. G., I can always count on you."

Mrs. Garrett wrapped her in a loving embrace. The other two girls joined in the hug. It was really good to be home. Jo enjoyed the familiarity of her surroundings as she sat at the table and chatted with her long time friends. These were people she could be sure of. They knew her, they knew Blair, and they loved them both. They were completely supportive. This mattered greatly to Jo as she worried about coming out to her mother. She broached the subject with them over desert.

"I still haven't told my Mom about me and Blair."

"Why not?" Tootie looked confused.

"Because her mom is like a Catholic saint, Tootie, duh!" Natalie rolled her eyes.

"Ma is not a saint," Jo corrected gently. "But the Church is at the center of her life."

"You're at the center of her life," Mrs. Garrett patted her hand.

"That's what Blair said," Jo gave a crooked smile.

"Blair is right," Mrs. G. continued. "You should listen to her."

"It's not that easy. Good Catholic girls just don't do this kind of thing. Ma's going to be so disappointed in me."

"She may have trouble at first, Jo, but she loves you. She'll come around," Mrs. Garrett reassured.

"I just don't know if I can take it, you guys. Everything seems so disjointed right now. I mean, Blair got beat up for no good reason, just ignorant hatred. She's counting on me in this whole different way now. The world seems upside down. Plus, there's the matter of some assholes sitting in county jail who did this to her! That makes me so angry!" She eyed Mrs. Garrett. "Sorry for cussing at the table."

"Well, I normally don't approve of bad language, but in this case, it's an apt description. My concern is that if you let this go on for too long, your mother will find out some other way. It would be best if she hears it from you."

"I just really don't need anymore drama right now, you know? And when I tell her, there's going to be drama. I just need her in my corner for a little while longer. Can you guys understand that?"

"Of course we can," Mrs. Garrett reassured.

"Whatever you want, Jo," Natalie agreed. "We're here for you."

"We got your back," Tootie grinned.

"Thanks, guys," Jo exhaled in relief.

* * *

Blair was becoming quite friendly with Antwoine. She looked forward to when his shift started in the morning. It was like hanging out with a friend all day.

"So, how am I doing, Antwoine?" she asked as he delicately checked her eyes.

"Headaches gone?"

"Yes."

"Sensitivity to light and noise gone?"

"Yes."

"Well, you seem to be symptom free, as far as the concussion is concerned."

"So, it's okay to have sex now?" Blair asked expectantly.

"You know I don't swing that way, Blair. Besides, what kind of nurse do you think I am?" he feigned shock.

"Not with you, silly," she laughed.

"That's really not my call. It's up to your doctor."

"What? I can't talk to him about this! He's known my family for years. It would be too embarrassing."

"That _is_ problematic. And, what about your ribs? Those types of injuries usually take three weeks to heal. I can't see a person getting into all kinds of positions and such with aching ribs."

"We can work around that."

"If you say so. But, I would be very careful. I don't think you're going to get the sex okay until those ribs are completely healed."

"But, that would be another week or so! That's not fair."

"You are so young, just a child, really. What's a couple weeks in the grand scheme of things?"

"It's not fair because Jo and I waited for years to be with each other. We were only together in that way for a month and then I get the crap kicked out of me."

"What happened to you was horrible. But don't let it color your perceptions of the rest of the world, Blair."

"I'm trying not to."

"Good. Besides, taking a little break from intimacy can be good for a relationship every now and again."

"After a few years, maybe, but not after only a month," Blair disagreed.

"I think you can hold out for a while longer if that's what the doctor orders."

"Maybe I need to have sex with Jo to help me heal."

"I'm sure she's good, but no one's that good. Healing takes time, baby girl. There's no substitute for that."

"So you're saying she can't fuck me better?"

"Blair! Where did a lady like you learn language like that?"

"From Jo. It's probably what got my ass kicked in the first place."

"Nothing you said or did got your ass kicked. It was hatred and ignorance, pure and simple. You are not responsible for any of it in any way. Remember that."

"You're right, Antwoine. Thanks."

"C'mon now, let's drop all this depressing talk and do something fun!"

"We could rearrange my shoe closet!"

"Girl, I thought you'd never ask!"

* * *

Jo returned to her room after her last final on Thursday and finished up packing for her summer in the city. Natalie and Tootie dropped by and sat on her bed.

"Need any help?" Natalie offered.

"Almost finished," Jo replied.

"So, you gonna' stay with your mom?" Tootie asked.

"With Blair's family at first, then with my mom once the internship starts next week."

"It's going to be hard to leave Blair to go stay with your Mom, don't you think?" Natalie asked.

"Yeah. But Ma's place is home. It'll be good to be home, too."

"So, do you think your mom will kick you out when you tell her about you and Blair?"

"I don't think so, Tootie. She'll be upset, but she'll want me nearby to pray over," she chuckled. "Besides, the option is for me to go stay with Blair. Don't think she'll want that."

"So, how's it going with you and Blair?" Tootie questioned.

"What do you mean?"

"How are you getting along? We haven't seen much of you two together since, um, well since…"

"Since you started having sex," Natalie finished her sentence.

"Jeez," Jo blushed. "Do we really have to talk about this? Blair and I are fine… better than ever. We're strong, you know?"

"That's good to hear," Tootie smiled. "I love you guys."

"So how's it going in bed?" Natalie gave her a mischievous grin as she nudged Tootie.

"I can't believe you asked that!" Jo was aghast.

"Yeah, Nat, c'mon!" Tootie was wide eyed as her mouth hung open.

"Do you role play? Are you the man? Or is Blair bossing you around between the sheets, as well."

"What do you mean _as well?_ "

"Everyone knows she's got you whipped," Natalie conjectured.

"Everyone knows?" Jo's eyebrows arched. "Just who is everyone?"

"Well, I may have gotten it from Blair."

"Blair told you that?" Jo placed her hands on her hips.

Natalie gave her an impish smile.

"You brat!" Jo picked up a pillow and hit her with it.

"Hey! I have to tease you a little, right?" Natalie laughed as she threw the pillow back. "Everything's been all doom and gloom around here lately."

"Yeah. Thanks, Nat. But just so you both know, everything is good between me and Blair in every way, in every department, got it? And that's all I'm going to say about that!"

"Oh my, what's going on in here?" Mrs. Garrett entered the room.

"Nothing, Mrs. G. Natalie's just been yanking my chain a little."

"That's our girl," Mrs. Garrett smiled at Nat before turning back to Jo. "All packed up? Ready to go?"

"I think so," Jo looked around.

Her friends carried her stuff downstairs and out the door for her. Jo fastened her belongings to her bike.

"Tell Blair we love her," Tootie said as she hugged her.

"We love you, too," Natalie embraced her.

"Mrs. Garrett put her hands on Jo's shoulders and squeezed. "If you need anything… anything at all, you remember that I'm just a phone call away!"

"I can't thank you enough, Mrs. G." Jo glanced up at the house and then back down to her friends standing in front of her. It struck her that this would be the last time she would be a member of this household.

"So, I guess this is it," Jo shrugged, fighting back tears.

"We're family, Jo," Mrs. Garrett smiled. "This is never it."

* * *

Jo was surprised to find a space had been provided for her motorcycle next to Blair's Porsche. But she refused to give Scott the keys, insisting that she park it herself. He helped her carry her belongings to the elevator. When the lift doors opened onto the penthouse, Blair was waiting for her. Jo couldn't believe how much better she appeared.

"Wow, Blair, you look amazing!"

"Enough with the compliments, Polniaczek. I still look a fright. But, flattery will get you everywhere!"

"Missed you, Warner."

"I missed you, Jo."

Blair stepped forward and they held each other in a tender embrace. Finally, she brushed Jo's hair back and kissed her lips.

"That's the first time I've kissed someone with my messed-up face," she rested her forehead on Jo's.

"So? How was it? Did it hurt?" Jo was concerned.

"Not really, no," Blair grinned. "How was it for you? Did it taste different?"

"No. Sweet as ever, Blair. Your lips were fine. Your bruises are healing, too. Just like I said they would."

"You really think I look better?"

Jo gave her a stern look. "I wouldn't say it, if it wasn't true. You know that, Blair."

"Thanks, Jo. I can always count on you for the truth!"

"Your hair looks different," Jo noticed. "Did you cut it?"

"Mom had a hair stylist come over. She cut it a little to make it more manageable around the contusion on the back of my head. Do you like it?"

"It's shorter, but not too short, ya know? It's neater, less poofy. I think it looks great."

Blair smiled. "Mom!" she called out. "Jo's here! We're going upstairs to listen to music!"

After a few seconds, Monica appeared around the corner from the kitchen. "Oh, hello, Jo! I didn't know you had arrived… until my daughter bellowed at me."

"Yeah, I'm here. How are you, Monica?"

"I'm good. And doesn't Blair look wonderful?"

"She does," Jo agreed.

"We're going upstairs, Mother," Blair informed.

"Certainly, Darling," Monica gazed at her somewhat annoyed. "Anything else?"

"I'm sorry, Mom. I guess I'm just excited because Jo's here."

"Understandable," Monica smiled warmly at Jo. "You're listening to music? I'll send up a pizza and some Coca-Cola's, shall I?"

"Thanks, Mom!" Blair kissed her mother's cheek, took Jo's hand and headed up the stairs. "Antwoine got me some fabulous headphones!" she enthused.

"Antwoine did?" Jo questioned.

"I mean, he told me about them. He knows a lot about electronics. He runs sound for a drag club in the Village some nights. He's so amazing, Jo!"

"I'm getting that feeling!"

"So, anyway, he told me about these headphones and I gave him some money to pick up a couple pairs. Jo, they're amazing! Wait 'til you hear what music sound like through them! He also got me some CD's."

"Slow down, Blair," Jo complained as they entered her sitting room. "You've got CD's?"

"Compact discs, uh-huh. They're replacing vinyl."

"I know what they are," Jo was irritated that Blair thought she didn't. "I've just never seen one before," she had to admit.

Blair proffered Jo a set of headphones. "We'll listen to _Dire Straits'_ latest album. I love it, don't you?"

Jo eased down into the over-stuffed couch. Blair was so full of energy! It was a relief to see her rejuvenated after all that had happened.

"So, you still got records?"

"Yeah! We can listen to Blondie, The Cars, Talking Heads, Madonna… whatever you want!"

"The classics," Jo nodded. "But, let's start with _Dire Straits_ ," she smiled as the other girl slipped the CD into the player, donned her own set of headphones and snuggled in beside her.

Blair was right: the sound _was_ amazing!

"So Antwoine says I'm ready for sex," Blair mentioned casually between record changes.

Jo took a sip off her coke. "Did he… really?"

"Kind of," Blair was coy. "I'm over the concussion symptoms, but my ribs are still a little tender. So we just have to be careful."

"But, you're medically cleared? I mean by your doctor."

Blair pouted.

"Out with it, Blair."

"I'm not supposed to do anything too strenuous until my ribs are completely healed… according to my doctor."

"So, there you have it."

"Oh, c'mon, Jo," Blair snuggled close beside her and laid her head on her shoulder. "We can mess around a little. I've kind of gotten used to having you every night before we fall asleep."

"You can still have me, just not in that way."

Blair began to lightly run her hand over Jo's breasts.

"Knock it off, Blair. Listen, if you're going to be like this, I can just sleep out here on the couch."

"Why are you being so stubborn?" Blair protested. "Don't you want me anymore?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I just don't want to hurt you. I've already hurt you enough."

"How do you figure that?" Blair was puzzled.

"I should've been there. I should've protected you. Those punks never would've got a shot in on you if I had been there!"

"Yeah, but then _you_ would've been beaten, so what's the difference?"

"I coulda' taken them, Blair."

"They had a baseball bat, for crying out loud, Jo!"

"I just feel bad that I couldn't protect you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I want to protect you, is all. I love you."

"That is so sweet," Blair wrapped her arms around her. "I love you too, Jo."

"So, um… "

"So, um," Blair grinned happily, "you don't have to sleep on the couch."

* * *

The next morning, Jo awoke to Blair smiling over her.

"I've just had one of my brilliant ideas!" she beamed.

"Uh-oh."

"I want you to pose for me. I'm going to paint you."

"What? I ain't no artist's model, Blair."

"But I have to test out my hand. It was injured, too, remember? I thought you wanted me to completely heal!"

"I do, but… now?"

"No, silly. We'll take a shower, get breakfast, check in with Mother and Bailey, and then I'll paint you!"

Jo didn't try to argue with Blair on taking a shower together. She thought it might be a good way to assess the state of Blair's recovery. She was right. It turned out that she still had trouble bending and the motions involved with washing her hair proved to be painful for her. Jo took over that job.

"See, Blair. You're still not completely healed."

"I'm healed enough," she turned to face Jo. She held her head in both hands as she pressed her lips against Jo's while the water cascaded over them. "Why won't you make love to me?" she pleaded.

"God, I want to!" Jo nibbled at her neck and let her hands run all the way down her backside as she pressed up against her. Blair responded in kind, sliding her leg in between Jo's and grinding it into her crotch. "God, Blair, I want you so bad," she breathed huskily.

"Make love to me, Jo," Blair was equally aroused.

Jo reached around Blair and turned off the water. "Not yet, Blair."

"What is wrong with you, Jo?"

Jo grabbed a towel and started gently drying her off. "Blair, I'll be honest with you. You thrash."

"You're saying you won't have sex with me because my orgasms are too intense?"

"Uh, yeah… in a nutshell! I'm not going to do anything that hurts you. I'm your protector, remember?"

Blair decided not to push it any further. She kind of liked Jo's new found protectiveness. It was so cute! Just when she thought she couldn't love her more, Jo pulled out something new.

Breakfast and pleasantries with the family extended into the early afternoon as they accompanied Bailey to the park. But, eventually, they ended up in Blair's "studio" which was actually one of the spare bedrooms made over with art tables, easels and cabinets. The huge windows made for excellent lighting.

"Okay, take off your clothes, Jo."

"What? I agreed to pose for you. I didn't say I'd do it naked!"

"Of course you're going to be naked," Blair stated casually as she placed paper on an easel and grabbed a box of charcoal pencils. "I'm thinking an Ancient Greek theme. I want to drape you in a chiton."

"A what?"

"A tunic worn by the Ancient Greeks," Blair replied as she rolled her eyes.

"So I won't be naked?"

"Take off your clothes, Jo, and stand on that podium, would you?" Blair was all business as she donned a smock and sharpened her pencils with a small blade.

Jo did as she was told. "I feel kind of exposed here in front of all these big windows," she complained.

Blair set a rectangular wooden box next to her. "Pretend it's a Greek pillar," she commanded. "You can lean on it so you don't get tired." She began to pose Jo's body. She stepped back and chewed on her bottom lip momentarily. "I think that's it," she nodded.

"What about my chiton?" Jo inquired.

"Oh yeah," Blair grinned. She retrieved a small piece of linen from a cabinet and draped it across the arm that was resting on the box.

"That's it?" Jo was surprised. "I'm still naked here! You're going to draw me naked?"

"It's art, Jo. Try to go with the flow."

"Geez, Blair. The things I do for you. I never in a million years would have believed I'd be posing like this!"

"Jo, I can't draw you if you're talking," she replied as she put on some classical music and turned the volume down low. "That's better," she returned to her easel.

"I thought you were going to paint me. What's with the drawing, anyway?"

"I need to sketch you before I can paint you. Now will you kindly quit talking?"

Jo was silent. "That's better. Now, pretend you're a Greek lady about to enter her bath."

Jo exhaled as she rolled her eyes. Blair sketched for about fifteen minutes before her model complained again. "I'm getting tired here, Blair. Can we take a break?"

"I think this would be a good time," Blair agreed.

"Who knew being an artist's model was such hard work?" Jo said as she wrapped herself in the linen and came over to look at Blair's rendering. "Whoa! That's really good! It actually looks like me. Hey, who's going to see this, anyway? I don't want the whole world looking at me naked!"

"It's just a sketch. Relax. It's not going in the Metropolitan Museum of Art," she eyed her intently. "There is one thing that's bothering me, however."

"What's that?"

"I need smooth lines. We're going to have to shave you."

"What?" Jo yelled.

"Yeah, your hair down there… it's got to go!"

Jo dropped her linen covering. "First time I've heard you don't like my, my… hair," Jo stuttered.

"Oh, I love your hair, Babe. I love everything about you down there, every juicy bit of it! But for the purposes of this drawing, I need smooth lines." She walked into the bathroom and came back out with a razor and some shaving cream. "For art's sake."

"You had this planned, Blondie," Jo accused.

"Put the linen on this table here, set your butt on it and spread your legs," Blair instructed.

"No way, Blair! Uh-uh. What if you cut me?"

"I won't. Listen, I've done this to myself a couple times. I'm pretty good at it!"

"You've shaved yourself before?"

"Yeah. I was curious. I liked how it looked with no hair down there. It really turned me on, Jo. It should've been a clue for me, I guess. I mean if my own vagina was exciting me, why was I still dating penis?"

"Ya' got me, Blair."

"Okay," Blair patted the table. "So hop up!" Jo was hesitant. More convincing was needed. "You're going to really, really like this, Jo. I promise. The whole process is positively erotic! Plus, for days later, you can feel your bare nakedness against your underwear. You'll get these little thrills at work and no one will even know! And the whole time you'll be thinking of me and this moment."

"You better be careful," Jo said as she hopped up on the table.

"I'm an artist, Jo! Spread your legs."

Jo leaned back, her feet on the edge of the table, and spread her legs before Blair. She heard scissors snipping and jerked up. "What, the hell, is that?"

"Jo," Blair exhaled deeply. "It is imperative that you don't make any sudden movements while I do this. I'm just snipping off some hair before I begin to shave you. Now, lay back, relax, and no more jerking!"

"You know what would make this even better, don't you?" Jo raised an eyebrow. "If you were naked, too. Take off your clothes, Blair."

"You are so right!" Blair disrobed slowly as Jo watched. She shook the can of shaving cream, sprayed a palm-full into her hand, and then began applying it to Jo.

"Whoa! That's cold!" Jo called out.

"No more movement now, okay?"

"Got it," Jo exhaled nervously as she felt the scrape of a razor against her skin. Blair was right! This was a highly erotic experience: being completely open and exposed to her, reposing complete trust in her as she manipulated a sharp instrument across her most sensitive areas. She was totally vulnerable as she listened to Blair periodically wash the razor in a bowl of water she had placed on the table and then… begin again: spreading her open to shave, ever so carefully, the few little hairs which began inside her lips. Finally, Blair placed the razor down and ran a wet washcloth slowly along her folds, making sure to insert her fingers inside to insure that all the shaving cream was removed.

"Jo," Blair breathed heavily, "you look amazing!" She held up a mirror.

"Wow. That _is_ amazing," Jo agreed.

Blair placed the mirror down and began to finger her. _Oh God._ Jo's head rolled back onto the table. The feeling of Blair's fingers touching her down there was overwhelming. She had never been this wet. Without warning, Blair's whole face was between her legs: licking and lapping at her sex. Jo let out a gasp before she began writhing on the table. It was only a short while before she gave over to absolute ecstasy.

"Geezus, Blair, what you do to me!"

Blair blew on her to cool her down before diving in again. This time the cascading waves of pleasure were almost immediate. There was a third time and a fourth. After the fifth time, Jo backed Blair's head away. "Enough…" she could barely speak. "Let me catch my breath," she collapsed back onto the table.

"See, Jo," Blair wiped her mouth with her hand. "I told you we could have sex!"

Jo sat up. "But that's just you pleasuring me. I would like to reciprocate."

"Oh," Blair's eyebrows shot up, "you will… next weekend! There will be no holding back then, believe me. But for now, you're my sex slave!"

"I wouldn't exactly describe what just happened as _holding back,"_ Jo slid off the table and hugged her.

"Hey!" Blair objected. "Back up on the table. I want to paint your essence!"

"You want a pussy painting, Blair?"

"Uh-huh! Now lie back down where I had you. I'm going to grab my water colors!"

"Sex-fiend!"

"Spread your legs and shut up! This is about art!"

* * *

Jo made her way over to her mother's house on Sunday evening. Dinner was waiting for her with a note: _"Picked up an extra shift. Be back around 10!"_ Just as well, Jo thought. Her mother could use the money and she could use some time to herself to contemplate coming events.

She began her internship the next day. Things went well. She liked her supervisor, Julie. She was a serious, substantial woman in her mid-thirties. But she had a wry sense of humor that Jo appreciated. Blair had been right about the naked flesh against her underwear. She could feel the soft cotton against her shaved parts and it _did_ turn her on. She caught herself thinking of Blair in an erotic way, at the oddest of moments.

Nights with her mom were mundane. They ate dinner, watched TV and chatted. She hadn't quite screwed down her courage enough to broach the subject of her and Blair until Wednesday.

"Ma, I've got to talk to you about something. It's important."

"Of course, Honey," Rose sat down next to her on the couch.

"It's about Blair and me," Jo cleared her throat. "We're not just friends anymore."

"You're not friends with Blair anymore? Did you have a fight?"

"No, Ma. That's not what I meant. Blair and I… well, you see, Blair and I are uh, lovers."

"What did you say?" Rose thought she heard wrong.

"Blair and I are lovers. We're gay, Ma."

Rose was silent. She got up from the couch and started wringing her hands.

"Say something, Mom," Jo's voice was anxious.

"I knew I shouldn't have let you ride a motorcycle."

"It's got nothing to do with my bike, Ma. We're in love. It happened and it's a beautiful thing. I'm really happy."

"Don't talk like that, Jo," Rose's voice was rising. "You've always had boyfriends."

"I haven't had that many boyfriends, honestly."

"What about Eddie? You loved Eddie. I was afraid you were going to run off with him!"

"I was only sixteen then. I did love Eddie, at the time. But it was nothing like this."

"It's that school, that girl's school: I never should've sent you to Eastland!" Rose was now pacing nervously.

"Mom, stop! It has nothing to do with motorcycles or Eastland or anything you've done! This is about me and Blair and our love for each other."

"Blair Warner!" Rose turned towards her abruptly. "She's seduced you with her money and jewels and cars and immoral lifestyle!"

"Hey!" Jo jumped up. "Don't talk about Blair like that! She's a beautiful, intelligent, extremely moral woman with a heart of gold! She's the best person I know!"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this, Jo! This goes against God's will!"

"Ah," Jo waved her off, "that's the Church talking!"

"You're damn right it's the Church talking. The Catholic Church condemns this! Do you want to go to hell?"

"The Church condemns divorce, too, Ma! Do _you_ want to go to hell?"

"That's different," Rose huffed.

"So we get to pick and choose which of the Church's teachings we adhere to?"

"Women with other women is abhorrent to the Lord. It's disgusting!"

"Of course it's not, Ma," Jo sighed. "The Church is just wrong on this one. Listen," she calmed herself. "I love her. I'm _in love_ with her. She touches something deep inside my soul. I can't explain it, but I've never felt so alive, so happy! She completes me. It's something beautiful from God, not disgusting."

"I can't believe I raised a daughter with such disrespect for me and my beliefs."

"It's got nothing to do with you _or_ the Church. I respect the Church for all the good things it does and I love you, Ma. But, I can't change this."

"It's just wrong, Jo. Can't you see that?"

"It's my truth, Mom. I'm telling you my truth."

"You are not gay and that's final! Now go to your room!"

"I'm twenty-one, Ma," Jo laughed in spite herself. "You can't ground me anymore."

"Or what? You'll run off to your girlfriend's house in Manhattan?"

"I could do that, but I don't want to."

"I can't talk about this anymore," Rose sighed deeply. "I'm going to bed."

"This isn't over," Jo folded her arms across her chest.

"For tonight it is," her mother stormed off into her bedroom.

Neither of them slept well: tossing and turning throughout the night.

In the morning, Jo found Rose kneeling in front of her statue of Mary with rosary beads in her hands and a candle lit.

"Praying for my soul, Ma?"

"As a matter of fact…"

"Yeah, well, I've got to get over to the Center. We can talk more this evening, if you want."

"You need a breakfast," Rose said quietly.

"It's okay. I'll pick up something on the way."

"I will not have my daughter going out into the world on an empty stomach. The Center can wait while I make you some eggs and toast."

"Okay, okay," Jo relented with a little smile. _It's a start!_


	7. The Princess and the Pauper

Jo was surprised that no one was there to greet her when she entered the Warner Penthouse on Thursday evening. "Hello?" she called out. "Blair? Monica?" There was no answer, so she bounded up the stairs to Blair's room. What she saw was totally unexpected! Antwoine was on his knees in front of Blair, who had her hands placed on his shoulders, dressed only in her underpants.

"Hey! What's going on here?" Jo demanded.

They were both obviously startled as they looked up at her.

"Dammit, Jo," Blair was angry, "now you've gone and ruined the surprise!"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Jo snarled. "I'm completely surprised."

"Don't be ridiculous! Antwoine was helping me with my dress."

"You know you have nothing to worry about from me, Jo… really" Antwoine leaned back and shook his head. "Miss Party-Scene here wanted to dress up to surprise you; show you how much better she is."

"And now you've ruined the surprise! Go into the sitting room until we're finished." Blair gave her a look.

"This is ridiculous, Blair. You don't have to dress up for me."

"Yes I do. Now get out!"

"Alright, alright then," Jo shoved her hands into her pockets determinedly and skulked off into the next room. Fifteen minutes later, Antwoine emerged.

"Madame is ready for you now," he bowed and gestured towards the bedroom in an exaggerated manner.

"Thanks, Antwoine," Jo smirked. As she entered the room, Blair stood before her in a shiny, form-fitting red dress with a slit running up one leg and matching red heels. She pirouetted while eyeing Jo seductively.

"What do you think?" she smiled brilliantly. Jo didn't know what to think. She knew Blair dressed-up like nobody's business, but her hair and make-up seemed particularly expertly done tonight. She was stunning. "Antwoine helped me," Blair sounded less sure of herself. "Say something, Jo."

"You look… amazing," Jo's voice was barely audible.

"She does clean up nice," Antwoine interjected as he leaned against the door. "Well, my work here is done," he walked over to Blair and hugged her.

Blair held on tight. "Thanks for everything, Antwoine."

"You could've made your own self up, Blair. You didn't need my help!"

"Yes I did," she sighed. "See you tomorrow?"

"You ain't rid of me, yet! I'm getting paid through next Tuesday."

"Good night," she pecked him on the cheek.

He raised an eyebrow at Jo as he left. "She is _much_ better, young lady."

"Thanks, Antwoine," Jo gave him a sheepish grin. "See you tomorrow." She turned back to Blair. She looked so beautiful standing there in her shiny dress that she was at a loss for words. Jo looked down to her feet.

"Do you think you should be wearing heels?" she asked.

"With this dress? It's a must!" She walked over to her closet and pulled out a shawl. "Grab a jacket, Jo. We're going out!"

"Seriously? Blair, you haven't walked in heels for three weeks. You think you're ready for this?"

Blair pulled a jacket out of the closet and held it up to Jo. "This will do," she said. "C'mon," she grabbed Jo's hand. "Let's go!"

"Where we going?" Jo asked anxiously.

"You'll see," Blair dragged her down the hall to the rooftop elevator.

"We're going to the roof?" Jo was perplexed.

"Yep," Blair squeezed her hand.

* * *

Lights were strung across the penthouse terrace. A white cloth was draped over the table. It was set with service for two. Champagne was chilling. Blair led Jo to the table and pulled the chair out for her.

"Considering how we're dressed, I should be pulling the chair out for you," Jo mentioned.

"Let's not stand on ceremony, Jo." She sat down across from her and pressed the intercom. "We're ready, Harold," she informed the cook.

"What _is_ this, Blair?" Jo asked.

"It's a date. I've arranged for us to have a date! Isn't it wonderful?"

"It is, Babe," Jo smiled appreciatively. "So where is everyone tonight?"

"Mother's at some society function and Bailey's with the nanny, probably already asleep, so we're alone… except for the cook, the housekeeper and the night nurse, who I totally don't need anymore, but Mom won't let her go until the three weeks are up."

"Okay," Jo nodded. "Good to know we're alone, except for the cook, the housekeeper, the night nurse and the nanny!"

"Don't start," Blair admonished.

Jo reflected for a moment on how the other half lives: _alone_ for Blair included a household full of servants. She surveyed the scene: lights strung, the white tablecloth, candles, champagne chilling, the dress… Blair had put a lot of thought into making this night special. She decided not to push the point.

"Your hair and make-up looks great tonight. I can barely see the bruises!" she changed the subject.

"Do you think?" Blair asked excitedly. "I had Antwoine help. I was a little nervous about applying make-up to my face. I'm just not used to having to cover instead of accentuate."

"Well, he did a great job. You look beautiful!"

Harold appeared from the elevator with the housekeeper, his wife, Peggy. They were an older couple with graying hair and pleasant features. They wheeled out a cart with plates of food covered with silver lids, like what you would see in a fancy restaurant, Jo thought. They set the food on the table as Harold lit the candles and popped the champagne, filling each flute half way up.

"Thanks so much, you two," Blair offered sincerely.

"Will there be anything else?" Peggy smiled.

"No. Jo and I will clean up. Thanks for staying, guys. This means a lot to me!"

"Glad to help out. You mean a lot to us, Blair," Harold replied.

"We're just so glad you're feeling better," Peggy patted her arm. "We were so worried when you first came home."

"They are so sweet," Blair said to Jo as the household help departed.

"They seem fond of you."

"They've known me since I was a baby. I was left alone a lot as a child. Sometimes the servants were all I had to talk to. They became like my extended family."

"How does your mom feel about that?"

"If she had a problem with it, she shouldn't have left me alone so much," Blair replied nonchalantly. "Let's eat!" she uncovered the food and placed a napkin in her lap.

"What is this stuff?" Jo looked in absolute bewilderment at the meal before her.

"Salmon en Croute," Blair replied. "It's yummy and really healthy."

"Never seen salmon look like this before," Jo poked at it.

"Here's to my beautiful Barbarian," Blair raised her glass.

"Here's to you, Blondie," Jo clinked her glass against Blair's. They sipped their champagne.

"Hey, this stuff's not bad," Jo reported after tasting the salmon.

"Told you," Blair smiled. "I'll civilize you yet!"

"I know you'll keep trying," Jo acknowledged. "So, I told my Mom about us."

"How did it go?" Blair asked anxiously.

"Not too well. She was pretty upset. She thinks it's a sin."

"What did you say?"

"I said that I loved you and that wasn't going to change so she should just get used to the idea. But she's still pretty upset."

Blair reached over and grabbed her hand. "I'm so sorry, Jo."

"It is what it is," she sighed.

"So how's your internship going?" Blair changed the subject.

"Great! I really like my boss, Julie. She's seriously committed to social change and helping those in need. She's really organized and thorough but, somehow, still funny, ya' know? I really like her."

"Should I be jealous?"

"No," Jo gave her disbelieving glance. "She's like in her thirties or something."

"An age difference didn't stop you with Ms. Gallagher," Blair snatched a bite of salmon off her fork with purpose.

"What? You knew I had a thing for her?"

"Everyone knew, Jo. It was obvious."

"Huh," Jo took a sip of champagne and relaxed back into her chair. "Well, this is different. I don't have a crush on Julie, okay?"

"I believe you," Blair continued to eat her meal.

"But," Jo began again, "she did say something to me that was extremely provocative the other day."

She had Blair's attention. "What was that?"

"She said that thanks to a healthy grant from the Warner Foundation, everyone at the Center would be receiving a raise."

"Oh, that," Blair looked at her plate refusing to meet Jo's withering gaze.

"Yeah, that," Jo twirled her fork in the air. "Blair, you can't keep doing these things! You know I can't accept charity!"

"It's not charity, Jo. That grant was applied for by the Center months ago. I might have had something to do with it being approved, but I don't see the harm in that. I knew you had a paid internship there this summer, so I wanted to make sure there was enough money, that's all. Besides, it not only affects you, it positively impacts everyone who works at or uses the Center. It's a good thing, Jo!"

"Yeah, I guess," Jo relented. "But quit working behind the scenes, will ya'? I need you to be upfront with me… about everything."

"Okay then, I'm thinking of moving out to our summer house in the Hamptons next weekend."

"What?"

"My family has a cottage in Southampton. We usually go over on the Fourth of July and stay for the summer. But I was thinking of going out early this year, since I won't be travelling. It will be great, Jo! We can have the cottage to ourselves for a couple of weekends, no servants, no family, no doctors or nurses… just me and you!"

"A cottage, huh? Probably with a swimming pool, sauna, tennis courts, a view of the beach…"

"Yeah…" Blair replied. "So?"

Jo bit her lower lip and thought for a moment. She had just barely gotten used to life in a Central Park Penthouse, now Blair was popping the Hamptons on her? Everything in Blair's life, outside of Peekskill, seemed completely foreign to her. It was like this whole other world: lifestyles of the rich and famous. Jo felt an innate aversion to becoming too comfortable amid the environs of the wealthy. Yet, this was Blair. It was who Blair was; how she had been raised, and she _did_ love Blair. She could not stay away from her from the moment they first met: whether it was arguing and throwing insults, or comforting and supporting each other. It was just meant to be: fated somehow, in one of the universe's more perverse moments. Blair was her girl. What a conundrum! It _would_ be nice to spend a couple of weekends alone with her, by the sea, no less. She guessed she could manage it. Jo decided to swallow her pride.

"Well?" Blair asked eagerly. Jo forked a piece of salmon and placed it into her mouth slowly. "I know it's a lot to ask," Blair continued. "I mean, you'd have to travel a lot further from the Bronx on the weekends. But, I just figured it would be a nice break for you. And seeing as you only have to work four days, every weekend would be a long one. Oh, Jo, it would be so much fun!"

"Okay, okay!" Jo burst out. "You can stop selling it!"

"So you'll come?"

"I'd follow you anywhere, Blair. Even into the lap of luxury, apparently."

"I love you, Jo," Blair gazed at her adoringly.

"I know," Jo grinned.

After dessert, Blair placed a cd into the outdoor stereo. "Recognize this song?"

"Yeah. Cyndi Lauper. _Time After Time_ ," Jo responded as Blair took her hand to dance.

"This is the first song we danced to, remember?"

"It was only like a couple of months ago, of course I remember," Jo complained.

"Oh, be sweet, Jo, please," Blair's voice was plaintive. "Here we are, dancing on a rooftop with the moon overhead, it's so romantic!"

She laid her head on Jo's shoulder. Jo responded by wrapping her arms around her waist. "I love you, Blair," she whispered into her ear.

They swayed slowly to the music with the lights of New York City as their backdrop. When the song ended, their lips met in an extended kiss.

"So, are we going to dance some more?" Jo asked.

"I thought we might take this party downstairs, to my bedroom," Blair rested her arms on her shoulders.

"Um… okay," Jo smiled.

They blew out the candles and quickly cleared the table, rolling the cart towards the elevator.

"Grab the ice bucket with the champagne, Jo!"

"What are we going to do with this stuff?" Jo questioned.

"We'll just stash it in my sitting room for the night," Blair suggested. "Take care of it the morning."

In their rush to get downstairs, they ran the cart too quickly over the elevator entrance and toppled it to the floor, sending plates and silverware and unfinished bits of salmon everywhere.

"Shit!" they said in unison and then both began to laugh.

"I'm not dressed for cleanup duty," Blair grumbled.

"I'll get it," Jo began picking everything up.

"No. I'll help," Blair tried to bend to reach a fork. Her dress was too tight, so she leaned down precariously, holding onto the cart. It rolled out from under her and she fell on her rear end.

"Blair, are you all right?" Jo called out concerned.

"Yeah," Blair was laughing. "What a klutz, huh?"

"Seriously, Blair, you didn't hurt yourself?"

Blair looked up to Jo with a look of astonishment playing across her features. "No, Jo. I'm fine! I'm really fine! That didn't hurt at all!"

"Guess you're healing-up then," Jo extended her a hand to help her. "Let's get this stuff downstairs and be more careful this time."

They rolled the cart into the sitting room and stashed it in a corner.

"Can you help me with my dress, Jo?" Blair asked as she kicked off her heels.

Jo unzipped the back of her dress and eased it down her body, caressing the soft skin with her hands as she did so. Blair turned to her.

"Make love to me, Jo?" she whispered.

They began to kiss and Blair knew the answer would not be "No" tonight. Their lovemaking was slow and gentle, as if they were exploring each other's bodies for the first time. There was none of the frenetic, desperate energy, which had been part of their first encounter, and many since. This was truly making love. Tenderness accompanied their passion. In many ways, it was a deeper experience than those that had come before. When Jo finally slid her hand between Blair's legs, drenched folds and an audible gasp greeted her. Blair couldn't believe how erotic it felt to finally have Jo's fingers down there again. Her brilliant little street urchin, who had become such a formidable woman, was touching her there. She adored Jo, and the presence of her fingers in her most personal spot nearly sent her over the edge. Then, to her surprise, Jo went inside her. As she pressed upward, rubbing against her inner walls, Blair experienced something new. Her body bucked up against Jo's hand as a wave of ecstasy cascaded over her.

"Oh God, Jo… yes, yes, yes!" she literally screamed as she thrashed upon the bed. Finally, her mouth fell open as she exploded into Jo's hand. "Oh God, Oh God," was all she could utter as her body shuddered uncontrollably. Slowly, her ragged breathing calmed as her body relaxed.

"Um, should I take my hand out now?" Jo asked tentatively.

"Yeah, slowly, okay?"

Jo looked at her hand. It was covered in Blair's juices. "That was amazing!" she said. "What was that?"

"I don't know. You just found a place that drove me crazy, Jo."

"I guess so. Look how wet my hand is," she laughed as she held it up to Blair.

Blair put a hand to her face, a little ashamed. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Jo spoke gently. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. That was amazing!"

Blair pulled her close. "Give me that hand," she said as she began to suck Jo's fingers, one by one. " _You_ are amazing, Jo. You just took me to a place I've never been before."

"Hope I can remember how I did it for next time," Jo was only half joking. "Are you okay?"

"No headaches, no pain, all is good," Blair assured as she wrapped Jo in a loving embrace, their bodies a tangle of intertwined arms and legs. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Blair."

* * *

The next morning Jo and Blair awoke late. They could hear Antwoine, already having started his shift, in the sitting room.

"What smells like fish in here?" they heard him exclaim loudly.

"Shit," Jo looked at Blair.

"The cart," Blair jumped out of bed and grabbed her robe.

"Sorry, Antwoine," she apologized as she greeted him. "We didn't get the dishes from last night's meal downstairs."

"Morning, Antwoine," Jo yawned as she appeared behind Blair wearing one of her girlfriend's shirts.

"Mm-hmm," Antwoine lifted an eyebrow. "I've heard you lesbians can be a bit fishy, but this is ridiculous."

"It's the dishes, Antwoine," Blair glared at him.

"I'll just take this downstairs then," he began to wheel the cart out of the room.

"You don't have to do that," Jo complained. "We can bus our own dishes."

"Oh no, girl," Antwoine shook his head. "This has got to go… now! You two just clean yourselves up. You might consider opening a window in here, as well! I'll meet you downstairs."

When Jo and Blair walked into the kitchen 45 minutes later, Antwoine was joking amiably with Peggy and Harold.

"Oh, your up!" Peggy greeted them. "Your mother is on the terrace. She asked that you join her."

"I'll send up a couple of omelets," Harold offered.

"No need," Blair waved him off. "We'll just eat what Mom's eating… croissants and fruit, I guess?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Peggy scolded. "You need a good breakfast to keep your strength up!"

"I wouldn't argue with this one," Antwoine motioned with his thumb towards Peggy. "Rumor has it," he began to whisper, "she's in a housekeeper's gang. I've heard those people will dust you without a shred of remorse!"

"Oh stop, you!" Peggy hit him playfully. "Your breakfast will be up presently."

Bailey was sitting on Monica's lap as her mother fed her.

"There you two are!" Monica greeted them cheerfully. "Sleepy heads!"

"Good morning, Mother," Blair kissed her cheek.

"Morning, Monica," Jo nodded.

"Oh you can do better than that, Jo," Monica complained as she tapped her cheek.

"Aah, I'm not the kiss-kiss type, Monica, you know that!" Jo protested. Blair eyed her. "Do I have to?" Blair nodded in the affirmative. Jo kissed Monica's cheek.

"Better," Monica was satisfied. "So, what's the plan for the day?"

"I don't know," Blair shrugged. "Want to take Bailey to the park, Jo?"

"That would be great," Jo smiled.

Antwoine appeared with their omelets then started to walk back to the elevator.

"Hey what gives, Antwoine?" Jo called out. "Sit down."

"Yeah, get over here," Blair chimed in.

"Mrs. Warner?" Antwoine looked at Monica.

"Of course, sit down, Antwoine," she smiled. "I think Bailey misses you!" She handed the toddler to him as he sat down next to Jo. Bailey hugged him as they began their private baby talk love fest.

As she looked around at the terrace in the full light of day, Jo suddenly noticed a new statue. It was about four feet tall and standing beside a potted plant. "Hey!" she called out. "That's me!"

"Isn't it marvelous?" Monica sighed. "Blair finished that this week."

"It's self drying clay, so we're not going to be able to leave it out here in the elements," Blair informed Jo.

"Oh, it's so beautiful," Monica enthused. "We'll have to move it into the living room!"

"Whoa!" Jo complained. "That's a naked statue of me! I don't want it in anyone's living room, for crying out loud!"

"It's art, Jo," Blair shrugged. "Besides, it's stylized. There are no nipples or…" she looked down to Jo's crotch, "anything else."

Jo covered her lap with a napkin. "But it's still me! You can recognize that, can't you? Christ, Blair, you said you were going to paint me, not sculpt me!"

"Oh, I am painting you. It's just not done yet."

"And where will that hang?" Jo was upset. "Over the mantle piece?"

"Well, if it turns out as nice as the sculpture, I don't see why not," Monica took a sip of tea. "Really, Jo, you should be proud. You transform well into art."

"You know," Antwoine took a break from Bailey long enough to join the conversation, "I'm not a connoisseur of the female form. But, this one appeals to me. It's muscular, yet sleek; strong, yet feminine. It looks like a Greek Goddess entering her bath."

"Precisely!" Blair beamed proudly.

"And if that's how you really look naked?" he eyed Jo. "You've got nothing to be ashamed of, girl."

"Jesus," Jo sighed deeply as she blushed from ear to ear. "I can't believe this."

Monica turned her glance to her and changed the subject without skipping a beat. "How did it go with Rose this week, Sweetheart? Blair told me you were going to talk to her about the two of you."

"Not so well," Jo slumped in her chair. "She's really stuck on the Catholicism thing. And after seeing this statue, I'm beginning to think she may have a point!"

"To be expected, I suppose," Monica popped a grape into her mouth.

"Yeah, I guess," Jo straightened up and continued. "I wish she could be more like you, just accepting of things between me and Blair." She couldn't believe what had just come out of her mouth. Had she really just said that she wished her own Mom was more like Blair's? She needed to check herself! Her Mom had always been there for her, sacrificed for her… unlike Blair's. It was only the gay issue that was causing them a problem.

"Don't judge her too harshly," Monica counseled. "Things aren't always easy for mothers to accept once their children are grown and have a mind of their own."

"She didn't kick me out or anything," Jo informed. "But I did have to agree to go talk to the parish priest with her."

"Ooooh," Antwoine rolled his eyes. "I pity the poor gay child who's got to go talk to a Catholic priest!"

Jo laid her head on the table and moaned. "I can't believe this morning."

Blair gave Antwoine a scolding look as she rubbed Jo's head.

"It will be okay, Jo," she comforted.

"I'm sorry," Antwoine apologized. "Don't listen to me. My mouth just takes off without me sometimes!"

"It's okay, Antwoine," Jo lifted her head. "I just wish things were easier, ya' know?"

"Oh, I _do_ know," Antwoine threw his arm around her and rubbed her shoulder. "But it gets better, sweetie. I promise."

"Antwoine, will you do my make-up again before we go to the park?" Blair asked.

"You don't need it, Blair," Antwoine shook his head.

"Of course you don't need it," Monica affirmed. "The bruises are barely noticeable at this point."

"You look great," Jo added.

"But what if people stare at me? I don't want to be a freak show!"

"Get over yourself!" Jo teased. "No one is going to be looking at you in the park."

Blair gave her an imperious glare. "Obviously, you have not been to the park with _me!_ " she huffed.

"So!" Monica changed the subject. "Can anyone explain to me why my elevator smells like fish this morning?"

Jo, Blair and Antwoine looked at each other and then cracked up laughing.

"I fail to see the humor," Monica was bewildered.

* * *

Bailey loved the playground in the park. She loved to be pushed in the baby swings. She loved to go down the slide with her big sister. She loved running around and playing with her sister's friends: Antwoine and Jo. Jo watched as Antwoine pushed Bailey in a swing. She nudged Blair.

"This is the best," she grinned.

"I know that," Blair nudged her back.

"Warner!" a loud voice boomed from behind them. "Is that you?"

Blair turned to see her old friend Dina Becker standing just outside the playground area.

"Becker?" Blair called out in surprise.

Dina ran up to her and gave her a huge hug. "Whatever are you doing here?" she questioned.

"Oh, I just brought my little sister to the park," Blair informed.

"That's right!" Dina remembered. "Your mother had that mid-life crisis baby!"

"She's not a mid-life crisis baby, Dina. She's my sister."

"Of course she is, Warner. I meant no offense. Oh did you hear? There's a huge soiree at Bethany's beach house tomorrow. All the eligible young men are going to be there. You have to come!"

"I don't think so, Dina. I'm not into that anymore."

"What? Parties? Since when?" She looked closely at Blair. "Oh my God! Whatever happened to your face?"

"Nothing," Blair tried to look away in an effort to hide her face.

"Good God, woman, it looks as though you've been beaten! How hideous, you poor thing."

"Hey, back off!" Jo warned.

"Oh," Dina's voice was dripping with disdain, "it's you… the school chum. Blair, why ever are you still associating with this riff-raff? I remember you had a boy's name. Now, what was it?"

"Dina!" Blair warned.

"Joe! Joe Pony-crap, was it?"

"You wanna' find out how a person gets bruises on her face? Keep talking, you're about to!" Jo approached Dina with her fist clenched.

Antwoine grabbed Jo and spun her around. "Not in front of the children," he advised. "Now go push the swing for awhile. This is Blair's crowd, Honey. Let her handle it."

Jo reluctantly backed down as she took over swing duty.

Antwoine moved next to Blair so that Dina could get a good look at his entire 6' 3" frame in the hopes of intimidating her. "We're right here if you need us, Sweetie."

"My, what interesting people you're hanging around with these days," Dina joked nervously. "What are you? The jolly gay giant?"

"Don't talk to my friends that way!" Blair approached her menacingly. "I got these bruises in fight, as a matter of fact!"

"Seriously, Warner, what is wrong with you?"

"Just leave, Dina," Blair shook her head. "We haven't had anything to say to each other for years and I'm good with that."

"Well, I can see what spending time with these sort of people has done to you!" She turned on her heel and walked away quickly. As she approached the edge of the playground, she turned and hollered back, "Let me know when you tire of your gay menagerie, Blair! You can come out and play with the in-crowd again. Oh! Unless you're already infected with something," she laughed as she scampered off.

Jo approached her with Bailey in her arms. "You should've flattened her, Blair."

"I abhor violence, now more than ever," her eyes brimmed with tears.

"Of course you do," Jo leaned into her so that she could hold Bailey. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

"What she said about my face, though. She's right. I shouldn't be out in public."

"Ridiculous!" Antwoine waved the suggestion off. "You looked better on the first day after your ass whippin' than that thing looks on her best day anytime, anywhere!"

"He's right, Blair. You look good now."

"Let's not let some shady wannabe socialite ho ruin our day in the park!" Antwoine smiled.

"Are you guys sure I look okay?"

"Yes!" they both said together.

"Okay then," Blair seemed somewhat satisfied.

"I'm proud of you," Jo threw her arm around her. "You encountered your worst fear and faced it down. Literally." Blair smiled bashfully at the praise.

"My worst fears are yet to be realized," Jo added glumly.

"You'll survive, too, I suspect," Blair kissed her cheek. She looked at Bailey. "Let's go play."

* * *

That Father O'Brien was Irish American instead of Polish or Italian didn't seem to bother anyone in the neighborhood. He was still a Catholic priest and that was all that mattered. He was young, early thirties, attractive in a boy-next-door kind of way with wavy brown hair, twinkly blue eyes and dimples. He had an understated charm that both young and old responded to. Rose thought the world of him.

"Hello, Rose," he extended his hand as he opened the door to his office. "And Jo," he smiled, "so good to see you again!"

"Nice to see you again, too, Father," Jo shook his hand.

As they entered his office, he sat behind his desk as Jo and Rose sat in chairs in front.

"What can I do for you ladies?"

"Father O'Brien," Rose began, "my daughter has strayed from the path of righteousness."

"How so?" he inquired with a sincere look upon his face.

"I'm in a gay relationship, Father," Jo informed.

"My daughter thinks she's gay. I've told her how this is contrary to the ways of God, but she's not listening."

"Oh," he leaned back in his chair, locked his hands together with two fingers touching his lips. "Are you in love, Jo?" he queried.

"I am Father."

"Tell her how wrong this is, Father O'Brien," Rose was adamant. "Tell her how her choice is repugnant to God!"

He sat for a long moment, thinking, rocking in his chair. "The Church holds that whether it is by nature or nurture, gay people experience their sexuality as a given, it is not something anyone chooses."

This was not what Rose expected to hear, but his words had the effect of making Jo unclench. Suddenly she was listening.

"You cannot approve of this!" Rose's face was turning bright red.

"Are you having sex, Jo?" he asked.

She was blown away by the question. Here she was, sitting in a Catholic priest's office, and he was inquiring into her sex life? Tit-for-tat, she thought.

"Are you, Father? Screwed any altar boys lately?"

"Jo!" her mother called out in horror as she swatted her arm. "How dare you talk to a priest that way?"

"I've heard stories, Ma. We all have!"

Father O'Brien chuckled ironically. "I am a true celibate, Jo."

"I apologize for my daughter, Father," Rose was mortified.

"No need," he assured. "The reason I asked you if you were having sex is because celibacy is something the Church asks of everyone who is unmarried."

"But, the Church denies me the option of marriage, Father," Jo regained her sense of decorum. "How is that fair?"

"It's certainly not an easy expectation, gay or straight," he replied forthrightly. "Yet, it is the teaching of the Church."

"Great," Jo exhaled loudly. "Anything else?"

"Yes. I think you should try to lead a good Christian life, follow the teachings of Christ, love your neighbor, perform acts of charity and mercy, remain humble, and give thanks and praise to the Lord."

Jo thought this over. "If, as you say, whether it is by nature or nurture, gay people experience their sexuality as a given, how can we be blamed for it and vilified by the very Church you represent? I could perform every corporal act of mercy I can imagine and I would still be a sinner in your eyes because of whom I love."

"I don't blame you, Jo. I can't speak for the entirety of the Catholic Church. I can only speak for myself."

"Then tell me what you really think!" she demanded.

"You say you love this girl?"

"With all my heart!"

"And you keep to her only? She alone holds this place in your heart?"

"If by that you mean am I only having sex with her?"

Rose placed a hand to her head, "Oh, God," she groaned.

"I can't imagine ever being with anyone else. She alone holds that place in my heart."

"Then follow your heart. The Church will not approve of your lack of chastity, but I won't judge you. As you said, you cannot be blamed for your nature."

"Father," Rose was outraged, "how can you say this? This is an abomination in the eyes of the Lord! Before Blair Warner came into her life, Jo was a normal, heterosexual girl!"

"Your girlfriend is Blair Warner?" Father O'Brien's jaw dropped as he registered shock.

"Thanks, Ma!" Jo eyed her scathingly. "Why don't you just tell the whole world?"

An amused smile crossed Father O'Brien's lips.

"What's so funny?" Jo insisted.

"Nothing," he shook his head, "but Blair Warner? She's in the papers, such a pretty, feminine girl!"

"Oh and I'm not?" Jo scowled. "It's natural that I be gay, but not her?"

"I didn't mean that at all, Jo. I'm sorry. You are a beautiful young woman. I was just a little taken aback. I apologize. You know, I met Ms. Warner once at a charity fundraiser that the Cardinal was hosting. She was lovely."

"Blair knows the Cardinal?" Jo shook her head.

"Apparently so. But don't worry about any of this getting out. I'm a priest. Our conversation is as confidential as it would be with a doctor or lawyer."

"Good to know," Jo relaxed.

"Tell her Father," Rose persisted, "that this is an abomination!"

"I guarantee you it is not an abomination, Rose. The Church does not approve of sex outside of marriage. But the Church also doesn't hold with the condemnation of entire groups of people. Remember John: Chapter 8 Verse 7."

"Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to cast a stone," Rose recited.

"This is your daughter, Rose. Do you love her?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then stop casting stones. Love her for who she is! Don't worry about the teachings of the Church on this. It is much more important that you have a healthy, loving relationship with her, than adhere rigorously to dogma!"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this from a Catholic priest," Rose was confounded.

"Rose, we are taught by the Church to accept gay people with respect, compassion and sensitivity and that every sign of unjust discrimination in their regard should be avoided. Would you not grant this to your own daughter?"

"The Church says that?" Rose asked skeptically.

"It is in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, though few bother to read it," he sighed. "My point is: if we listen, really listen, to the words of Christ, we hear love, love, love, and again love. I am simply asking you to love your daughter. Trying to change her will be fruitless and cause derision and strife where none need exist."

"So you approve, Father?" Jo asked tentatively.

"I can't approve because your having sex outside of the Sacrament of Marriage."

"And that's a sin, right?" Rose pointed out.

"Sin is an offense against reason, truth and conscience. You have to think of the teachings of the Church as guidelines by which to live your life, not as laws that can be broken so that heavenly hosts can mete out punishment while the rest of us judge!" Father O'Brien sighed deeply. "I believe in love: the love of Christ for us, the love we have for each other. Rose, that's all I can tell you."

Jo was satisfied. "He's not condemning me, Ma, see?"

"I'm very confused right now, Jo."

"Please, both of you, go in peace," he smiled sweetly. "May I bless you?"

They both bowed their heads as he came from around the desk and administered a blessing. He gave them each a warm hug as they left his office. As soon as the door closed behind them, he scurried back to his desk, opened a drawer and pulled out the latest edition of the Weekly World News. _Heiress Beaten in Vicious Attack by Gay Aliens!_ screamed the headline. So _that's_ what really happened, he flipped through the pages to the story about Blair Warner. _I knew it wasn't aliens!_

* * *

"You know? I really like Father O'Brien," Jo mentioned over dinner.

"Well, I don't know what to think," Rose shook her head. "I certainly didn't expect that!"

"But what he said made sense, Ma. You can't be a slave to dogma. You have to apply rational thought and follow your conscience."

"You're just lucky we didn't talk to Father Kowalski! He would've read you the riot act!"

"That old fart? I wouldn't have even gone if you had suggested we talk to him!"

"You are so disrespectful, Jo. I didn't raise you this way."

"You raised me to be an independent thinker!"

"I did not!" Rose protested.

"Ma, you didn't think when you sent me off to an exclusive prep school that I would start learning how to think differently? Seriously?"

"I sent you off to get you away from the horrible influences and gangs of the streets in the hope and expectation that you would blossom into the thoughtful, beautiful and intelligent young woman that I know you are."

"That's all I'm doing, Ma, blossoming."

"Under the tutelage of Blair Warner."

"Okay," Jo dropped her pizza. "Enough with the Blair putdowns! Just a few days ago you were calling her a lovely girl!"

"And I thought she was! Until all this came out!"

"She is, Ma. She is that lovely girl you thought she was. And while we're on the subject of Blair, I'm going to be spending weekends in the Hamptons from now on."

"You're what?" Rose almost choked.

"Yeah. Blair wants to move out to her place there for the rest of the summer."

"So you two can do what… ride ponies on the deck of her yacht?"

"Something like that," Jo shrugged. They looked at each other and both began to laugh hysterically.

"I can't believe I'm laughing at this," Rose put a hand to her chest.

"It's a good thing, Ma. We needed a laugh."

"That we did," Rose agreed.

"So, on that subject, I would like you to come out for a weekend."

"Like I ever get a weekend off," Rose sighed.

"Have you been to the Hamptons, Ma?"

"I worked a couple parties there, back in my youth."

"Well, this time, I would like to invite you as a guest. It would be good for you to get to know Blair better. She's not going away."

"I can't believe my own daughter is inviting me to be her guest in the Hamptons."

"At least think about it, okay?"

"Okay."

"I love you, Ma."

Rose placed her hand over Jo's. "I love you, too."

* * *

Blair was ready to go the following weekend. Her bags, to Jo's relief, were already packed into her Porsche. Blair did not travel light.

"Just follow me out of the city, okay?" she commanded. "Here's the address and directions if you lose me." She pressed a piece of paper into Jo's hand.

"Like you could lose me, Blondie," Jo huffed.

Once they had exited the city, and were on the Long Island Expressway, Jo was afraid her words might come back to haunt her. Blair gunned the Porsche! Jo's view of Blair was that of blonde hair shining in the rays of the setting sun as it blew behind her and a rear NY State license plate getting ever smaller as she sped ahead.

She wants to play? Let's play! Jo gunned her bike to keep up with her. She had to admit, it was turning her on. When they finally arrived at Blair's cottage, Jo jumped off her bike and ran over to the Porsche.

"What was that, Blondie?"

Blair was adjusting her hair in the rear view mirror. "What was what?"

"You took off like a bat out of hell on the Expressway!"

Blair smiled at her coyly. "I like to drive fast. What's the point of a car like this if you don't drive fast?"

"That sounds like something I would say," Jo shook her head. "Almost seemed like you were trying to lose me!"

"This is a Porsche 911 Turbo. It's been road tested at 173 mph. There was no way you were going to catch me if I didn't want you to."

Jo bobbed her head as her eyebrows lifted. "True enough," she had to concede.

Blair suddenly sniffed the air. "It's the ocean, Jo. Can you smell it?"

Jo looked up. They were in front of Blair's cottage. "Sweet Mother of God, Blair, this is a mansion!"

"Don't be silly," Blair jumped out of her car. "It's only 7 bedrooms. Some of the places out here have wings with 10 bedrooms each. Those are mansions!"

"Uh-huh," Jo stood incredulous.

"Let me find Morrison. He'll open the garage for us."

"Who's Morrison? I thought you said no servants?"

"He's not a servant. He's the groundskeeper. He takes care of this place when we're not here. He lives in a separate unit, so we will be alone in the house, Jo. He also takes care of the garden on the penthouse terrace. I'm surprised you haven't met him."

"I suppose he's seen my statue then," Jo sulked.

"He was the one who placed it in the garden for me," Blair stated innocently.

"Great," Jo shook her head.

"Ms. Warner!" Morrison called out as he came around the house. He was a handsome young man in his mid twenties. "Good to see you!"

" _This_ guy moved my statue?" Jo lowered her head, completely embarrassed.

"How are you, Morrison?" Blair called back to him.

"Can't complain."

"Would you open the garage for us?"

"My pleasure!" he glanced at Jo. "You look familiar. Do I know you?" he asked.

"Nope," Jo turned her face away. _Damn statue!_

"This is my friend, Jo," Blair reported. "She'll be staying here with us on weekends."

"Nice to meet you," he extended his hand.

"Back at ya," Jo held out her hand without looking up.

Once they had made a couple of trips to carry all of Blair's luggage in, Blair had another one of her brilliant ideas! She threw open the French doors at the back of the house. Ocean waves could be heard pounding on the shore.

"Let's go skinny dipping!" she looked at Jo, her eyes wide.

"Blair, you're nuts," Jo eyed her skeptically. "It's pitch black out there!"

"The moon's rising, Jo! We'll make love under the light of the moon!"

"Um, no. We can do that in here where it's warm and dry."

"Oh, c'mon," she gave her best pout. "For me, Jo? Please."

"No way, Blondie. Not happening."

Blair stood resolutely, with her hands on her hips. "Then at least walk on the beach with me. Dip your feet into the water."

"Can't we wait for daylight to do that? There could be creatures out there in the dark like jellyfish or sharks."

"I doubt they'll jump up on the beach to nibble our toes." Blair gave her a sarcastic look. "Please, Jo!" Blair begged.

"No. And that's final," Jo stated resolutely. "We can go upstairs, open the window, make love under the light of the moon while we smell the sea breeze and listen to the waves. That's my best offer, Blair."

Blair pondered this for a moment while she gave Jo a disapproving look. "All right, then," she sighed heavily as she gave in. "I guess that'll have to do."

* * *

Jo was at the window, and but for Blair's silk shirt that she had slipped on, stood naked to the night sky. The moon shone down upon the ocean as a breeze lightly lifted the curtains. She looked back to Blair, sleeping peacefully on the bed, then out the window again. She was reminded of a poem:

 _The sea is calm tonight._

 _The tide is full, the moon lies fair…_

 _Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!_

 _Only, from the long line of spray_

 _Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,_

 _Listen! You hear the grating roar_

 _Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,_

 _At their return, up the high strand,_

 _Begin, and cease, and then again begin,_

 _With tremulous cadence slow, and bring_

 _The eternal note of sadness in._

The eternal note of sadness, she pondered. Underneath everything there was always a little sorrow. Here she was, in a beautiful place, under a beautiful sky, just having made love to a beautiful woman, yet everything was not perfect. There was her mother; she knew her mother would never completely accept her. There were constant financial struggles; she felt uncertain about her future. Could her relationship with Blair stand up to the scrutiny and disapproval of a homophobic society? Did Blair feel uncertain about the future, too? She had expressed concern about taking over her Father's company. Jo didn't know if David had even asked Blair if she _wanted_ to take over the company. It was just kind of a given to him. She contemplated how her presence in Blair's life might negatively affect the perception of the heiress in the business world, as well as in high society. She had already been physically attacked for being gay. How would she be attacked in other ways? She wondered what Blair's deepest sorrows and fears were.

Life was so confounding and complicated for some, and so carefree for others. It had to do with perception, she thought. Those leading an unexamined life, maybe, were less inclined towards melancholy. Perhaps they didn't hear the eternal note of sadness. Ignorance is bliss. Then there were those who chose to perceive life in a positive manner. They _did_ examine their lives and found that whatever joy, love, light or help for pain could be found in this existence had to be created from their own good will. This was the category Jo placed herself and Blair in. They chose to perceive life in a positive manner, despite their own personal challenges and sorrows. Then there were those who really never stood a chance. Their lives were ones of desperation, swept by confused alarms of struggle and flight.

That morning she had been working in the Bronx, helping really poor people try to better their lives and carve out a little bit of happiness for themselves from a hardscrabble existence. Tonight she was standing in one of the richest places in the world, surrounded on all sides by billionaires in their summer homes. _What am I doing here?_ The answer to that question was easy as she looked back over to the bed: Blair. She loved Blair.

She turned back to the ocean and listened to the waves.

"Jo?"

"I know, I know… I'm thinking too loud again."

"That's not it," Blair yawned. "There's this creepy old man from the village who rows his boat out to sea at night. He uses night vision binoculars. He looks for naked women standing alone in open windows and then…" she stopped suddenly as her eyes grew wide.

"And then what?" Jo unconsciously stepped back from the window.

Blair's voice was barely above a whisper, "He sculpts them!"

"Shut up, Blair!" They both laughed.

"Oh my God, Jo, it's so horrible! He could be sculpting you as we speak!"

Jo tossed a pillow at her as she jumped in bed beside her.

"It's good to have you back, Warner."

"It's good to be back!" She threw the pillow back at Jo.

"So, what are we going to do tomorrow?" Jo placed her arm behind her head and gazed at Blair.

"Tomorrow?" Blair questioned as she wrapped her arms around her lover. "Tomorrow we rule the world!"


	8. Summer Fun

Jo and Blair ate breakfast at an outside restaurant in Southampton. Jo felt proud of Blair as they strolled around the village. She was out in public, among her peers, and, aside from a pair of sunglasses, made no effort to conceal her face. Not that she should… she bore almost no trace of the brutal beating she had endured only a month ago. The two lacerations on the left side of her face, however, gave every indication that they might scar. Blair had talked about it as she was applying makeup before they left for breakfast.

"I'm not going to try and cover these lacerations," she mentioned.

Jo eyed her dubiously. "I hate to say it, Blair, but they may scar."

"Good!" Blair's answer had surprised her.

"Good?"

"Those little bastards who did this to me will be going on trial by the fall. If I'm called to testify, I want there to be a physical reminder. Let the jury see how what they did to me has scarred me permanently!"

"Do you feel scarred on the inside, too?" Jo asked tentatively.

"It's changed me, Jo. I can't deny that. But, I don't feel afraid, if that's what you mean. I feel," she searched for the right word, "angry, I guess. I don't have the same sense of security that I did before. I now know that there are people out there who will target me and hurt me. But that doesn't make me feel afraid. It makes me feel angry. I guess I'm not describing it very well."

"No. I totally get it. Listen, Blair, I kind of grew up knowing I could get my ass kicked at any moment for no good reason. Just for being on the wrong street at the wrong time. It does make you angry. That's why so many people in poor neighborhoods _are_ angry. You develop this defense mechanism of _I'll get you before you can get me!"_

"That's horrible, Jo. No one should have to feel that way. I'm sorry."

Jo watched as Blair brushed her hair. She was so innocent in a way, so unprepared for the hard facts of life that Jo had grown up with. And why should she be? Why should anyone? Her fierce sense of protectiveness towards Blair kicked in. She just knew if she had been there, those punks never would've gotten the jump on her! She walked over to Blair and placed her hand on her shoulder.

"No one's going to touch you again, Blair, ever."

Blair placed her hand on top of Jo's as they eyed each other affectionately in her dressing table mirror.

As they walked down the sidewalks of Southampton, Blair appeared to be completely comfortable in her own skin. As she peered into over-priced shop windows, Jo would take her arm and gently pull her away.

"We're not here to shop, Blair. Beach time, remember?"

"We could throw in a little shopping," Blair pleaded her case.

"You said you invited Antwoine over for when I'm not here?"

"Yeah. I miss him already. Is there a problem with that?"

"I've got no problem with Antwoine," Jo gave her a disconcerted stare.

"Good. My parents paid him a boatload of money and he deserves to spend some of it out here."

"That was my point," Jo rolled her eyes. "Antwoine probably likes shopping. When he comes out on Monday, you two can shop 'til you drop!"

"Oh, um… okay!" Blair brightened. "I guess I can wait. Let's hit the public beach today."

"Why? You have a whole private beach at your disposal, right?"

"Yeah, but the public beach can be so much fun! I mean, you're surrounded by people laughing and having a good time. It's like an outdoor party, festive, you know? I feel like being with people today, okay?"

"I'm down with that," Jo smiled, happy that Blair felt confident enough to be with a crowd.

As they walked down the beach looking for the perfect spot, Jo began to notice something. "So does _everyone_ here have a boob job?" she asked in amazement as she almost tripped on the beach looking back at many very well endowed women.

"Not everyone. Don't be ridiculous," Blair replied. "I don't."

"Yeah, but your boobs were good from the get go, Blair."

Blair stopped in her tracks. Jo wasn't watching and walked right into her.

"Ow!" Blair complained. "Quit staring at other women's breasts and watch where you're going!"

"Sorry. But, damn, Blair, I've got like mosquito bites next to some of the women here!"

"There's nothing wrong with your breasts, Jo. They are the perfect size. They're like wonderful mouth-sized cupcakes."

"Yeah, but Blair… damn!" Jo gestured down the beach.

Blair placed her hands on her hips. "Quit staring at other women's breasts, Jo! Maybe it was a mistake to come to the public beach!"

Something occurred to Jo as she turned her gaze to Blair. "Did you just say I had cupcake breasts?"

"This is a good spot," Blair ignored her as she dropped her beach bag and began to spread a blanket upon the sand. "Let's set up here."

Jo placed the picnic basket on the blanket as she plopped down next to Blair who was already pulling off her shirt.

"Let's get wet, Jo!" Blair beamed as she kicked off her shorts and jumped up clad only in her bathing suit. Jo did the same and they ran down into the waves, splashing, laughing and playing together.

When they finally returned to their blanket and were toweling off, Jo gazed over at Blair. She looked so happy and carefree. "It was a good idea to come here."

"Told you so," Blair stated confidently as she tossed Jo a tube of sunscreen. They laid on the blanket, close to each other, listening to the playful, happy sounds of the beach. Suddenly, a shadow passed over them and lingered.

"Blair?" a male voice questioned.

Blair sat up and removed her sunglasses. "Seth?"

"I thought that was you!" he knelt down in the sand beside her.

Jo looked over at him. He looked like a typical Ivy Leaguer! _Great._

"I heard what happened to you," Seth began. "What a drag! But, hey, you look smashing!"

"Oh please," Blair flipped her hair.

 _The hair flip? Really, Blair?_ Jo thought.

"Hey," Seth continued. "A bunch of us are partying down the beach a ways. You should come join us!"

"Ahem," Jo leaned on her elbow and eyed her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Blair smiled, "Seth this is my girlfriend, Jo Polniaczek."

"Pleased to meet you," Jo reached over Blair to shake his hand.

"Nice to meet you, too," he flashed her a brilliant smile, but his attention quickly returned to Blair. "So? Come party with us?"

"I'm not really up for the old crowd, Seth."

"Oh," he seemed perplexed. "Is this about Dina Becker?"

"What about Dina?" Blair was suddenly suspicious.

"Oh, um nothing. I saw her at a party at Bethany's last weekend. She was running her mouth about how you much you had changed, how you threatened her in the park and some other nonsense. She's an asshole. None of us listen to her anyway."

Jo sighed deeply as she glared at Blair. "She _is_ an asshole."

"So, forget her!" Seth smirked. "She's not with us. You should come party!"

"We'll think about it," Blair smiled sweetly. "It was so nice to see you again, Seth."

"Hey!" he jumped up. "The pleasure's always mine! There are parties all weekend, Blair. Anytime you want to join us." As he began to jog down the beach, he turned back to them. "And bring your friend! She's kind of hot!"

"I'm _kind of_ hot?" Jo raised her eyebrows as she gave Blair a scornful look. "Obviously the charms of my cupcake tits have escaped him!"

Blair replaced her sunglasses and lay back down on the blanket. "That's his problem," she said as she rolled over. "Will you put lotion on my back for me, Jo? Oh, and undo my strap, I don't want tan lines."

"Yes, Ma'am," Jo untied her bathing suit top and slathered sunscreen on her.

"Thanks, cupcake tits," Blair giggled.

Jo slapped her rear end… hard!

"Oh!" Blair was startled. She gazed over the top of her sunglasses at Jo. "I kind of liked that," she smiled mischievously. "Lift up my bathing suit bottom and see if you left a mark!"

"No, Blair! We're on a public beach!"

"Just do it quick. I want to know."

Jo looked around. No one was _too_ close to them, she thought. She lifted Blair's bathing suit bottom slightly. She peered in at her bare, round derrière.

"Well?" Blair questioned.

"I can't tell. Maybe, there's hand print, but it could just be the color of your swimsuit shading your butt."

"Feel it," Blair suggested.

"I am _not_ going to feel up your ass on a public beach!"

"But you want to… I can tell."

Jo pulled up on her swimsuit so that it snapped Blair when she released it.

"Ow!" Blair called out as Jo swatted her again. "Later?"

Jo just shook her head and sighed.

* * *

The next day, Blair had arranged for them to go sailing.

Jo was excited as they walked down the dock. "I've never been sailing!"

"It's only a 23 foot sloop," Blair cautioned.

" _Only_ 23 feet?" Jo shook her head.

"I mean, it's not a yacht, or anything. It's a small sloop. I'll be sailing it myself."

"You know how to sail? You are always surprising me, Blair!"

"It's easy really. You just have to keep your lines untangled."

"Hello, Ms. Warner!" an amiable middle-aged man called out as they approached the sloop. "Everything's shipshape and ready to go!"

"Thank you, Mr. Rossi!" Blair smiled as she jumped into the boat and reached back for Jo, who was less sure of how to enter a sloop. After she helped Jo onboard, she picked up a captain's hat from the seat and put it on.

"You girls remember to put your life vests on," Mr. Rossi called after them as they cast off.

"We will!" Blair called back. She rolled her eyes at Jo. "I never wear one," she informed when they were out of earshot of the berth. "Too restrictive."

"Is that safe?" Jo eyed her questioningly.

"Asks the girl who rides a motorcycle everywhere," Blair chided as she guided them away from the marina. "Besides, when they make a fashionable one, I'll wear it!" she smiled. In a short while, they were out on the bay. She cut the engine and instructed Jo on how to help her with the sails.

"You've got to keep us pointing into the wind, while I raise the sail." Blair informed. "Take the tiller."

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Jo saluted as she watched her girlfriend labor. When the sails caught the wind, Jo gasped. They were moving on the breeze, the only sound that of the water beneath them. "This is awesome, Blair!"

Blair took over rudder duty as Jo leaned back in the boat and looked up at the sails. "Wow!"

"I thought you might like it," Blair beamed at her.

"Like it, I love it!" Jo leaned over the rail and watched the water pass by as the breeze lifted her hair behind her.

"Jo! Don't lean over the edge, okay?" Blair called out.

"Oh, sorry…" Jo leaned back against the side of the boat and returned her gaze to the sails. "This is like flying on the water." She laid her arm on Blair's leg. "I never thought I'd be doing something like this. Thanks, Blair."

"Want to drive?" Blair teased.

"Could I?" Jo was so excited; she forgot to apply her usual veneer of cool.

Blair instructed her on how to steer and allowed Jo to take the tiller. After sailing around the bay for a while, Jo had a question. "Can we take this baby out to the open sea?"

Blair was hesitant. "Um… yeah. There's an inlet that leads to the ocean. But it's a lot rougher out there."

"I love it, Blondie! Let's go!" Jo jumped up and accidently jerked the boat to a dangerous angle. She fell against the railing as Blair grabbed the tiller in an attempt to right the ship. Once she had secured the vessel, she called out to Jo. There was no answer. She looked around. "Jo?"

Jo was not onboard. "Jo!" Blair screamed as she turned the boat into the wind to slow it. She felt panic creep into her heart as she remembered that she had eschewed the wearing of life vests. "Where are you?" she screamed as she surveyed the water around her. "Jo!"

"Blair!" she heard a voice call from behind her. Jo was in the water as the boat sailed away from her. Thinking quickly, Blair hurled a life preserver ring in her direction.

"I'm going to stop the boat, Jo. Just hang on to the life preserver until I can pull you in."

"Easy for you to say," the Bronx native's eyes were wide as she grabbed the ring.

Blair managed to bring the sailboat to almost a complete stop. She began to pull on the rope connected to the life preserver as Jo kicked out behind her. As Jo approached the boat, Blair dropped the ladder. Jo clutched the first rung and started up. She flopped into the boat, soaking wet. She looked up to Blair with a sloppy grin.

"Well, that was exciting," she smiled.

"Are you okay?" Blair was practically shaking.

"Yeah," Jo pushed herself up to sit on the bench. "Just a little embarrassed."

"I'm taking down the sails. Sailing lesson over!" Blair was suddenly angry. She was mad at herself, more than anything. Jo was having a wonderful time, and she had gotten careless: letting Jo steer, not wearing life vests…

"Aw, c'mon, Blair. Don't be an asshole. It was an accident!"

"You could've drowned, Jo!"

"I didn't," she looked at her in an irritated manner. "I just got a little wet, is all."

Blair noticed she was shivering. "Hold this," she gestured towards the tiller. Jo did as she was told. As Blair started towards the cabin, she turned around, "And just hold it steady… no jerking around, okay?"

"Aye, aye," Jo saluted.

Blair retrieved a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Better?" she lifted an eyebrow.

"Better," Jo gave her a half grin.

"We're going back to the yacht club now. You're soaking wet. No arguments."

"Yes, Captain," Jo pulled the blanket around her. "And, Blair?" she looked up expectantly.

"Yessss, Jo," Blair drew out.

"Thanks for saving my life," she smiled sweetly. "You're my hero."

"You can thank me later, after dinner, on the beach," Blair eyed her seductively.

"Wow. What's with you and having sex on the beach?"

"You don't want to?" Blair sounded hurt.

"I didn't say that, Blair. C'mon. It's just that we have a perfectly good, warm, clean, bed. We're gonna' get sand in all kinds of places that are just wrong."

"Don't be silly. We'll spread a blanket. It will be so romantic outside, in nature, with the surf pounding and the evening sky above!" she sighed dreamily.

"With the sand blasting us and our asses freezing off," Jo added her opinion of the would-be, romantic tryst. "Besides, what if someone strolls by on your private beach, or is in a boat on the ocean just casually looking towards shore, or is peering out their mansion window with a telescope?"

"I know, right?" Blair scrunched her nose. "The idea of getting caught makes it all the more exciting."

"You're a deviant, Blair," Jo deadpanned.

"I haven't heard any complaints from you on that score."

* * *

Later that evening, Blair got her wish. They made love on her private beach as the setting sun lit the sky with shades of pink and gold, and waves crashed upon the shore. Jo wrapped the blanket around their naked bodies as a breeze kicked up off the ocean. The stars began to twinkle on, one by one, as the sunlight faded.

"So," Blair cuddled up next to her, "What did you think?"

"I gotta' admit, Blair, it was kind of erotic having the element of nature thrown into the mix. It felt dangerous, like we were getting away with something."

"I just knew you'd like it once we were out here! It's like we're one with the earth, the sea, the sky… naked and natural, like feral animals mating in the wild! I love it."

"So," Jo was suddenly curious, "you've never done this before?"

"You know I haven't!" Blair was offended.

"It's just that you seemed so sure of this, like you'd done it before."

"With whom, I'd like to know?" Blair was upset. "Who do you have me cavorting with out here?"

"I just was asking, Blair. Don't go getting all huffy on me."

"I'm insulted that you think I'm hiding something from you, Jo. I've told you the truth about my romantic liaisons."

"I believe you, but humor me, okay? Tell me again how I'm your only one."

Blair sighed and rolled her eyes. "You are my one and only true love, Jo Polniaczek. I have never felt this way about anyone else. I have never done anything with anyone else. I was saving myself for you, just you, only you," she took Jo's hand and kissed it. "I have never lay naked in the sand, or anywhere else, with anyone else: no boy, no other girl…" she paused and looked up to the sky as if trying to recall something. "I mean, Katie Flanagan in 8th Grade didn't count because we were too young to know what we were doing."

"What?" Jo's eyes narrowed as she stared at her. "Who's Katie Flanagan?"

"We were partners in an economics project. We were just comparing endowments, you know? Exploring the possibilities of merging our assets. We thought we might need some hands-on, real world experience. So I examined her portfolio and she examined mine. Her holdings were substantial, as I recall… Ow!" Jo had hit her arm. "What was that for?"

"Who, _the hell_ , is Katie Flanagan?"

Blair started laughing. "She was this mousy little thing in my 8th Grade economics elective. She had coke-bottle glasses, buckteeth and pimples, the poor little thing. We worked on a project together. That's all, I swear!" she tickled Jo. "I was just teasing you."

"You jerk!" Jo tickled her back as they rolled over laughing. Eventually they lay face to face with their arms around each other.

"Jo, do you think there will come a time when we don't want each other like we do now?"

"No. I'll always want you, Blair."

"But, I mean, will our passion wane?"

Jo leaned up on one elbow. "Where's this coming from, Blair?"

"I just, I dunno', I don't want to lose this feeling."

"You won't."

"How do you know?"

Jo smiled down at her. "I just know."

"You're so sweet," Blair kissed her shoulder.

"Let's not let that get around and spoil my reputation."

"Whatever you say, Cupcake."

"Aw, Blair. You're not going to start calling me that, are you?"

Blair thought this over momentarily. She had that really cute look on her face, Jo thought. The one she found irresistible. The one that made it impossible for her to deny her anything.

"Well, I could call you Cupcake Tits," Blair finally started again, "but what if I slipped and said that in public. That would never do! Besides, you're the one who thought up this nickname."

"Did not!"

"Did to! I was complimenting your breasts," she ran her hand over them, squeezing each nipple, "saying how perfect they were, like mouth sized cupcakes, and you came up with cupcake tits."

Jo rolled her eyes. "But _cupcake_ is so weak. It's a sweet, little, soft, fun kind of thing," she whined.

"And tasty. Don't forget tasty," Blair took a nipple into her mouth. "I don't think you're weak, Jo. Quite the contrary! But soft, sweet and fun?"

"You're gonna' ruin my street cred, Warner," Jo complained.

Blair rolled over onto her back. "I'm sorry, Cupcake."

They both laughed.

"I want to have a Fourth of July party here and invite your parents," Blair changed the subject.

"That's, um, nice… but Ma's not exactly down with this. And I haven't even talked to my Dad yet."

"So… talk to your Dad and we'll invite them. What's the worst that could happen? They'll say _no_?"

"Yeah, Blair, that _is_ the worst that could happen! I would feel devastated if both my parents turned us down."

Blair looked at her with concern and compassion. She placed a hand on her cheek. "I'm sorry. But, maybe, they won't turn us down. We won't know unless we try, right?"

"I guess," Jo sighed.

"Good!," Blair smiled. "Then it's settled. I also want Nat, Tootie, Mrs. G., Chris, Gary and Antwoine to come."

"So this won't be a small party."

"Nope. A blow-out!" Blair kissed her cheek. "Can you talk to your Dad this week?"

"This just isn't as easy for me as it is for you," Jo sighed.

"I know that," she wrapped her in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry," she gazed at her with sympathetic eyes.

Jo hugged her back as she laid a kiss upon her brow, unable to resist her. "I'll talk to my Dad this week."

"Thanks, Jo!"

* * *

Jo arranged to have dinner with her Dad the following week.

"Hey, Honey!" he gave her a big hug as they met inside the restaurant.

"Hey, Pop! Glad you could make it."

"Yeah, well, I just got back into town a couple days ago. They had me training some new guys upstate. But, now I'm back to covering my usual area, so I'll be around a lot more this summer."

"That's great," Jo smiled. "We can spend some time together."

She felt apprehensive about broaching the subject of her and Blair. She decided to what until their entrees were served and made small talk until then. When the waitress set their dinners before them, Jo dug into her spaghetti with meatballs.

"I just love the food here," she said.

"Best Italian in the Bronx!" Charlie agreed. "So, how's it going with Blair?"

Jo looked up, startled. She hadn't expected that question. "What do you mean by that?" she asked defensively.

"Your Mom tells me that Blair got mugged and you've been helping take care of her on weekends."

"Oh… that," Jo laughed nervously. "Yeah, she's all better now."

"Poor kid," Charlie shook his head. "Hard to figure how anyone could hurt such a sweet girl. I should give Monica a call. See how she's doing."

"She _does_ enjoy your company, Pop."

"Blair's a beautiful girl," he nodded.

"I've noticed," Jo pushed her food around her plate to avoid making eye contact.

"Yeah, that's what your mother said."

Jo's head suddenly shot up as she looked at him confused. "Ma said that Blair is a beautiful girl?"

"Um, no," Charlie clarified. He cleared his throat. "She said that _you_ had noticed that Blair is beautiful. As a matter of fact, she mentioned that you two were in some sort of romantic relationship together."

"You knew?" Jo was shocked.

"Your Mom filled me in. She wants me to talk some sense into you."

"So?"

"This cannelloni is really good," Charlie savored another bite.

Jo folded her arms across her chest. "Pop?"

He gave her a wink as he took a sip of wine. "Are you happy, Jo?"

"I've never been happier."

"Then who am I to judge? I mean, you're a college kid. College kids do these sorts of things, right?"

"It's more than that, Pop. I'm not just experimenting. Blair and I are in love."

Charlie thought for a moment. "I want you to be careful, Honey. You're so young. When Blair got beat up, was it over this?"

"Yes," Jo offered quietly.

"That's what I thought, rotten little bastards," he growled. "I don't want that happening to you. You're my little girl and always will be. I want you to be safe."

"I don't want to get beat up either, believe me! But, I'm not going to let a few ignorant punks determine how I live my life!" Jo stated defiantly.

"That's my girl!" Charlie smiled proudly. "But what about the Church, Honey? I'm pretty sure the Church is against this."

"I already talked to Father O'Brien about this with Ma. He said it was better for her to love and accept me than to try and change me."

"Father O'Brien said that?" Charlie was surprised. "Your Mom didn't tell me."

"Of course not. She didn't get the fire and brimstone speech she was looking for!"

"Huh. Well, I can't argue with Father O'Brien, can I?" he took another sip of wine. "But what about children, Jo? Don't you want to have children someday?"

"Pop, I'm twenty-one! I'm not thinking about children yet!"

"Guess I don't have to worry about Blair knocking you up," he took another bite of cannelloni. "That's a plus!"

"Glad you're looking on the bright side," Jo agreed. "So you're okay with this? With me and Blair?"

"You don't do anything half-assed, I'll give you that, Jo. When you go for a woman, it's not just any woman… it's the richest, most beautiful heiress in New York City! Ya' got good taste, kid. What can I say?"

"Blair's throwing a Fourth of July bash out in the Hamptons. You can say you'll come."

"A chance to see how the other half lives? Of course I'll come!"

Jo's smile lit up the room. She felt a huge burden lifted from her. "You're the best, Pop!"

"You just don't forget where you come from, Joanna Marie," he pointed his fork at her. "Promises me that!"

"Whadda' you mean?"

"Don't forget the values you were raised with. You're a good girl, Jo, and I don't want your head turned by money and privilege."

"Blair grew up with money and privilege and she's a good girl, too."

"I know that, Honey. I just had to say it out loud," he returned to his meal.

"She just needs me now, ya' know? She's been through a horrible ordeal and I want to, um…"

"Protect her?"

"Well, yeah, Pop. You get that, right?"

"Yep," he affirmed. "But, it must be nice out there in the Hamptons every weekend, huh?"

"It's amazing! We went sailing, played tennis, went swimming and horseback riding," Jo stopped herself. "But, I'm not taking any charity from her or anything. I know who my people are. I work four days a week here in the Bronx. I'm only out there on weekends because…"

"She needs you," Charlie finished her sentence. "I know. So, how's Monica with all this?"

"Monica's been great! She's practically adopted me."

"Good. It'll give her and me something else to chat about! But better not let your Mom hear that," he laughed.

"No worries there, Pop."

"I love you, Jo. Don't ever forget that."

Jo's eyes were brimming with tears. "I love you, too, Pop."

* * *

"Oh, Blair! We have to go into this shop!" Antwoine exclaimed as he slipped his arm into hers. "Ralph Lauren, Christian Lacroix, Gucci!"

Inside the boutique, Antwoine held clothes up to her, alternatively shaking his head yes or no. Finally, he had decided. "Try these three."

"Plus the four I picked out," Blair said. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Into the dressing room?" Antwoine questioned. "I don't think so." He looked around the shop at the other women there. "People might talk," he whispered to her conspiratorially.

"Let them!" Blair announced defiantly.

"No, Sweetie, you'll just have to come out and show me. Besides, I want to look at some handbags and jewelry while you're trying things on!"

Blair came out in her first outfit and pirouetted for him.

"Oh, that's nice, Blair," Antwoine approved. "What do you think of this Louis Vuitton handbag? It's very unisex. I think it could pass for a man purse, don't you?"

"What's a man purse?" Blair scrunched her nose.

"All the cool men are carrying man purses these days!"

"Like who?" Blair asked.

"Like Joe Montana," he informed. "He's a football player, in case you didn't know."

"I don't follow football, but I _have_ heard of Joe Montana, Antwoine!" she stated huffily. "He carries a man purse? Really?"

"Uh-huh. But he probably calls it a shoulder bags or something manly like that. I was thinking of getting this for my boyfriend, Viktor."

"It _is_ nice," she approved as she headed back into the dressing room.

Antwoine placed the handbag around his shoulder and started looking at jewelry. He became aware of a woman standing very close behind him.

"Isn't his lovely?" he picked up a bracelet and turned to her.

"Way too expensive for you," she glared at him with her arms folded across her chest.

"Excuse me?" he was taken aback.

"I'm sure there's nothing in our store to interest you," she continued haughtily. "So, if you'll kindly remove the handbag, you can be moving along."

"Would that be because he's black, or because he's gay?" Blair startled her.

"Oh, Ms. Warner!" the saleswoman's tone changed, "I didn't see you standing there!"

"Apparently not or you wouldn't be treating my friend so rudely!" Blair fired back.

"Well, then," the woman cleared her throat nervously, "that's quite a different matter."

"I'll tell you what the matter is," Blair was livid, "that you judge a person's character based on the color of his skin! It's heinous!"

Antwoine placed his hand on her shoulder. "Settle down, Blair."

"Why, Antwoine? This is not all right! It's appalling!"

"We'll just be on our way as you suggested," he eyed the saleswoman.

"Damn right, we'll be on our way!" Blair threw the outfit she had been trying on to the floor. "You won't have to worry about getting any of my business, nor that of my many unsavory friends! And I'm a world-class shopper!" she smirked at the woman. "C'mon, Antwoine, let's go!" She headed for the door.

"Um, Blair?"

"What, Antwoine?" she demanded.

"Are you forgetting something?"

She looked down and realized she was dressed in only her underwear. "My clothes. I'm forgetting my clothes." She grabbed Antwoine's hand and led him to the dressing room. "I don't want you to have to stand out here with such a gruesome creature!" she shouted back over her shoulder to what was now a completely ashen-faced boutique employee.

Blair was still fuming as they walked outside. "How can you be so calm?" she demanded of Antwoine. "How can you put up with that?"

"Oh, girl, I'm used to it. Welcome to life on the black side."

"But you should have told her off!"

"And get arrested? I don't think so. In a store like that in a neighborhood like this, wouldn't be anyway it didn't end up my fault."

They sat on a park bench. "I'm so sorry, Antwoine."

"Don't worry. I'm not. The day I let some pinched face shady bitch like that ruin my mood, is the day I turn in my gay card."

"People don't talk to me like that," Blair pointed out.

"You're privileged, Blair. White privileged, rich girl privileged, and up until recently, hetero privileged…"

"I know, but I don't see how that should matter in how you treat people."

"That's because you're a good, decent human being. But, you better get used to it. If you're going to be with Jo, you're going to get a lot of crude comments directed at you. You can't fly off the handle at every uncouth creep who makes a rude remark. Isn't that how you got your butt kicked?"

"Yeah, but…"

"No buts, baby girl. Just walk on by with your head held high. Sticks and stones, Blair, sticks and stones. Do it for Jo. She's not going to fit in with a lot of your crowd. She's from the wrong side of the tracks, just like me. It's going to be hard for her. If you go all Attila at the slightest provocation, you could get her beat up, as well. Do you want that?"

"Of course not! But, I just can't tolerate all this injustice anymore!"

"Calm yourself down. Pick your battles."

"I've been told that before."

"By, Jo?"

"Uh-huh."

"Girlfriend knows, so listen to her. She's walked down this path you're putting yourself on. She knows it leads to more bad than good. There is such a thing as righteous anger, but at the right time and place. I _will_ stand up for myself, believe me. But when it really matters. I'm not about to waste my time on some ignorant white fool out here in the Land of the Entitled. That wouldn't change a thing and I won't exhaust my energy on it."

Blair exhaled deeply and thought for a moment. "I know you're right. It's just that all this stuff is new to me. I'm not used to being put down and vilified."

"Mm-hmm. That's the privilege we were talking about, remember? Up until now, you've been allowed to get away with things, just because of who you are, how you look. But the moment you got with Jo, you crossed over into a world of prejudice. People don't like two nice young white girls together. It messes with their sense of morality… scares them. You're embarking on a journey that's going to take you to some uncomfortable places. Just try to keep a level head: eyes on the prize. You'll figure it out, in time."

"You think so?"

"I know so. You're a person of high moral character, Blair. Shoot, just look at that fine woman you got to fall in love with you."

"I know, right?" Blair smiled bashfully. "I love her so much, Antwoine. I miss her every second. This morning, I rolled over onto her side of the bed. I could smell her scent. Just the scent of her makes me tingle. I feel like the luckiest person alive! Sometimes I can't believe it's all true… that Jo finally loves me the same way I love her. I just think of her and want to melt."

"It is true love… sing it on out, sister!"

"Don't repeat any of this to her, okay? She hates mushy stuff."

" _Moi?_ " he ran an imaginary zipper across his mouth. "My lips are sealed! Now why are we sitting on this park bench when there is still so much shopping to do?"

"You still want to shop?"

"Of course," he looked at her incredulously. "I'm not about to let one shriveled-up, skanky, rotten apple ruin my shopping mojo." He stood and reached down for her hand.

Blair smiled as she placed her arm in his. "I'm so glad I met you."

"Well, you know what they say… it's an ill wind that blows no good."

"Speaking of blow-outs, Antwoine, I want to tell you all about my Fourth of July party plans! You're coming, of course, and bring Viktor. You can stay the weekend with us!"

"Not so fast," Antwoine cautioned. "Will there be fireworks at this party?"

"Um… duh," Blair rolled her eyes.

"Then I guess we can make it," he smiled down at her. "You know, Viktor and I only attend parties where fireworks are a provided."

"Oh, this one will have plenty of fireworks, guaranteed!"

* * *

"Natalie! Tootie!" Blair ran out of the house and embraced them both. "I'm so happy you could make it!"

"Oh my God, Blair, this place is beautiful," Natalie gushed as she entered. The foyer was open to both stories as a staircase ran up to a second floor landing which stretched the length of the house. French doors with ocean views walled the downstairs living room on the right and formal dining room on the left.

"I feel like I'm in a movie!" Tootie's mouth was agape.

"Oh! Natalie and Tootie, you're here! Welcome," Monica greeted them both with a peck on the cheek.

"I'm going to show them their room, Mom," Blair exclaimed excitedly.

"That's fine dear. I'll have lunch served on the veranda in what? A half hour?"

"Sounds perfect!" Blair kissed her mother before leading the other two upstairs.

"Look at this view, Tootie," Natalie gasped as she threw open the doors leading to the terrace. "I'm home!"

"It's so good to see you guys," Blair smiled. "I've missed you."

"You look great, Blair," Tootie remarked. "You can't even tell except for those two little scar thingies on your…" she stopped suddenly as Natalie elbowed her and gave her a scolding look.

"It's all right," Blair laughed. "I know I have a couple reminders of what happened." She touched her face just below her left cheek, close to her ear.

"Barely noticeable," Natalie waved casually in the air. She and Tootie sat on one bed while Blair sat across from them on the other. "So, whatcha' been doing? Where's Jo? I thought she'd be here."

"Jo comes up late. She works in the Bronx on Thursdays. But no worries, she'll be here in plenty of time for the party tomorrow!"

"How's it going with you two?" Tootie asked.

Blair sprawled across the bed sideways and laid a pillow under her head so that she was facing them. "She's been wonderful. She's been taking great care of me."

"Nurse Jo, who would've thought it?" Natalie shrugged.

"She was very strict at first," Blair intoned dramatically. "But now that I'm better, we've just been having fun: swimming, sailing… oh, and I took her horseback riding! She was hesitant, at first, but picked it right up!"

"So, Blair," Natalie smiled, "swimming, sailing, horseback riding? I never knew you were such an outdoorsy type."

"Yeah," Tootie chimed in, "I can see Jo liking all those things. But since when do you enjoy sports?"

"I enjoy sports," Blair was somewhat offended. She lay back on the bed and gazed up at the beamed ceiling. "I just don't like the ones where people crash into each other while they're playing with balls. Maybe I just don't like balls."

Tootie and Natalie eyed each other and pursed their lips in an effort not to laugh.

"Especially big balls," Blair continued oblivious to their amusement. "I mean, I like tennis and golf, maybe it's just that I'm not a good team player," Blair added as the two other girls tried to contain their growing mirth at her complete lack of awareness of the humorous nature of her statements. "I guess I just don't like touching balls. They make your hands all greasy and dirty. But, if I can hit them with a club or a racket, I'm good."

Finally, they couldn't contain themselves anymore as they both burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Blair turned to them.

"Blair Warner… not a team player? I never would've guessed!" Tootie chortled.

"And Blair," Natalie dried her eyes, "I think we know by now that you don't like balls!"

"All right, very funny you two," Blair smiled. "But, I think this whole experience has brought Jo and I closer together. That's all I was trying to say."

"Wow," Natalie's eyebrows rose, "that's sayin' something. Because you two were pretty darn close to start with. I mean, even before you were _together_ together and were bickering and hurling insults everyday, you were still close. It was always like you had your own private language, something only the two of you could understand."

"I think we always understood each other, even if we didn't dare to say it out loud," Blair mused.

"That's so romantic," Tootie sighed. "Forbidden love blossoming right under our noses!"

Blair threw a pillow at her. "C'mon, let's see if lunch is ready! After that, we can go swimming."

"Don't have to ask me twice!" Natalie grinned.

"Um, but we'll wait an hour, right?" Tootie, always the cautious one, suggested.

Both Blair and Natalie hit her with pillows.

* * *

When Jo arrived later that evening, there was a cacophony of laughter and chatter: the four musketeers together again. After dinner, they sat on the sofa to snack on popcorn and watch a movie.

"So, what else have you guys been doing this summer, besides sailing, swimming and horseback riding?" Tootie asked.

"I've been working," Jo offered.

"Oh yeah," Tootie remembered. "How's that going?"

"It's amazing, Tootie! All these inner city kids and other folk who just need a little extra help and I'm there to provide it. It feels like I'm really doing something that matters, you know? And my supervisor, Julie, is amazing! I've learned so much from her."

"The famous Julie," Blair groaned.

"What do you got against Julie, Blair?" Jo was defensive. "You haven't even met her."

"That could change. The way you go on about her, I just might have to drop by and meet her."

"Don't do that, Blair," Jo cautioned. "You'd be like a fish out of water."

"Why shouldn't I? There's a lot of Warner Foundation money in that place. I have every right to check out the Center."

"I'm warning you, Blair."

"You're _warning_ me?" Blair cut her off.

"All right you two, let's dial it back a notch," Tootie intervened.

Natalie elbowed her. "Don't stop them. I'm enjoying this."

"Blair's just jealous, is all," Jo explained.

"Oh," Natalie flashed on something. "So she's afraid you have a crush like you did on Ms. Gallagher?"

"Exactly," Blair intoned dryly.

"Let's just drop this," Jo was irritated.

"So, what else have you two done this summer together, besides sports things and sex things? I don't want to hear about the sex things," Tootie blurted out.

"I do!" Natalie's eyes grew wide.

"Nat!" Tootie looked at her reproachfully.

"Well, I do!" Natalie shrugged.

"Blair "painted" me," Jo informed.

"Why did you put the word _painted_ in air quotes?" Blair demanded.

"Because you didn't end up painting me, you made an obscene sculpture of me!"

"It's not obscene, Jo, it's art!"

"A graphic representation of me naked for the whole world to see? I call that borderline pornographic, Blair."

"Ooh, I want to see it," Natalie pleaded.

"You can't," Jo informed. "It's in Manhattan at the penthouse."

"Actually," Blair smiled smugly, "I've had it transferred out here for the party."

"You did not," Jo gave her a menacing glare.

"I want to see it, Blair," Natalie enthused. "Where is it?"

"You did not!" Jo was adamant.

"I did, Jo. Let me check my party list," she pulled a piece of paper from an end table. "Buy decorations, hire caterer, arrange for music, here it is! Move sculpture to Southampton!"

"Give me that paper!" Jo jumped up.

Blair stood and held the paper at arm's length from her body. "Make me!"

"You asked for it, Blair," Jo lurched at her as Blair ran away. Jo chased her around the room trying to grab the paper.

"Aah," Natalie nudged Tootie. "It's nice to see some things never change."

"Like old times," Tootie agreed.

Jo caught up to Blair as she tried to escape to the veranda. Blair slid in her stocking feet and crashed into the French doors.

"Oh my God, Blair! Are you all right?" Jo approached her with concern.

Blair stood still momentarily, looking somewhat dazed, before a huge grin crossed her lips. "Sucker!" she shouted as she took off again. This time, when Jo caught up to her, she threw her on the couch and held her down.

"Now, give me that paper!"

Blair released the list to her.

"You asshole!" Jo exclaimed.

"What?" Natalie and Tootie questioned curiously.

Jo held it out to them. The paper was blank. She began to tickle Blair. "Where's the statue, huh? Where's the statue?"

"Stop it, Jo!" Blair tried to push her off as she giggled. "It's still at the penthouse, Silly!"

"I knew that," Jo kept her pressed into the sofa. "You are such a jerk, Blair."

Blair didn't say anything. She just looked up at her adoringly. Jo grunted as she faked a head butt on her. She then gazed down at her and smiled. She laid a tender kiss on her lips before releasing her.

"This is so interesting," Natalie said. "I always wondered what happened after you two chased each other. So you tickled and kissed?"

"Not usually," Blair sighed as she righted herself on the couch. "Usually, Jo would hold me down until I said what she wanted me to say like _You are so right, Jo! I am wrong!_ or _You're the bestest, smartest, prettiest girl at school_ and such."

"I only made you say that once," Jo objected.

"It's all right," Blair held her hand and kissed her cheek. "It was true, after all."

"Oh my God, you guys are so cute," Natalie gushed.

"Stop it, Nat," Jo complained. "Blair's already ruining my reputation as a tough girl. I don't need you calling me cute on top of it all."

"But, you are cute. I just hope I can find a guy to love the way you two love each other."

"You will, Nat," Jo assured.

"Hey, why are we sitting in here when we could be walking on the beach under the stars?" Tootie suddenly piped up.

"Got me." Natalie shrugged.

"You guys want to go out to the beach?" Blair questioned.

"Let's do it!" Tootie smiled an irresistible smile.

Jo and Blair grinned as they watched Natalie and Tootie run from the surf and squeal in their bare feet. They stood at a distance from the other two and leaned against each other. They were both remembering their amorous adventures in the sand.

"Whadda' suppose they'd think if they knew what we were doing in this very spot last weekend?" Jo ventured.

"And the weekend before," Blair reminded.

Jo threw her arm around Blair as the blonde rested her head on her shoulder. The ocean breeze lifted their hair, entangling blonde with brunette. Blair breathed deep.

"Jo, do you think that the ocean makes people more sensual?" she exhaled.

"Eh? What do you mean by that, Blair?"

"I mean, when I'm by the sea, I just feel every inch of my sensuality. I feel like the salt air, the cool breeze, the sound of the waves, calls us back to an ancient time. It awakens something in me, makes me want to…"

"I think I know what it makes you want to do," Jo interrupted her.

Blair nudged her with her hip. "It _does_ make me feel very aroused sometimes."

"No… really?" Jo smirked.

"But, it's more than just that, Jo. It's something innate, primal, intrinsic to our nature."

"We all come from the sea. Maybe you're feeling that."

"Maybe," Blair contemplated. "There's something bigger than us here: something that reminds us of how small we are but, at the same time, calls us to be great. It's vast and powerful and teaming with life. Infinite diversity. Infinite possibilities. Yet, it's so mysterious. What goes on down there in the deepest dark? I just feel alive around the ocean. Like every inch of me is present, nothing blocked… open and full of hope."

"You're a romantic, Blair," Jo kissed her head.

"I guess."

"We should be getting to bed. Tomorrow's gonna' be a big day," Jo yawned.

"It is," Blair agreed. "But just one kiss out here before we go?"

Jo lifted her chin and indulged her. She gently rocked Blair's lower lip between her teeth before releasing the kiss.

"How was that?"

"Mmm, perfect," Blair rested her head on Jo's shoulder again. "Very sensual."

"I've heard my ancient ancestors were spawned in this very water. I'm just a creature of the sea, Blair!"

"Deep, dark and dangerous," Blair nudged her.

* * *

The morning of July Fourth saw the house bustling with activity. Decorators arrived and were busy hanging bunting, streamers and lights, all in red, white and blue. The caterers showed up to begin roasting a pig. Peggy and Harold drove up from the penthouse.

"You're not making Peggy and Harold work on the Fourth of July, are you?" Jo was aghast.

"Of course not," Blair informed. "They're invited guests."

"Your mother doesn't have a problem with you inviting her servants to your party?"

"We've been through this, Jo. They're like family to me."

"Blair!" Peggy hugged her. "You look so well!"

"We've brought Nathan's to throw on the grill," Harold smiled proudly.

"You know you don't have to cook today, Harold. I want you to relax. Just enjoy the party!"

"But what's the Fourth of July without Nathan's?" he rightfully questioned.

"You're incorrigible, Harold," Blair hugged him.

Jo was not in a good mood. She felt very uncomfortable with all the extravagant preparations that accompanied a party in the Hamptons. She poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter. Natalie and Tootie sat at the kitchen table eating their breakfast. "I wouldn't fill up, you guys," Jo cautioned. "Blair's ordered a whole pig to be roasted."

"A whole pig?" Tootie gawked at her with her mouth hanging open.

"Cool," Natalie downed some scrambled eggs. "My family doesn't eat pork, so I might as well start big!"

"Well, just don't go and be breaking any of your religious tenets to please the idle rich out here," Jo warned. "A whole pig, Blair, really?"

"My Mom invited some extra guests. It was her idea."

"Whatever," Jo sipped her coffee.

"Please try to be civil today, Jo. This is my first party since I was attacked," she brushed her arm lightly. "It's important to me, okay, Cupcake?"

"Cupcake!" Natalie nearly choked on her eggs.

"Great, Blair. Thank you so much," Jo gave her an intense glare.

"Cupcake?" Natalie continued with a look of glee in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Jo," Blair apologized. "It just slipped out."

"My reputation is ruined," Jo complained.

"Now why do I doubt that?" a voice boomed out from behind them.

"Mrs. Garrett!" Jo, Natalie and Tootie called out joyfully. They rushed to hug her.

"Surprise!" Blair smiled.

"You knew Mrs. G. was coming?" Jo looked at her questioningly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to do something nice for you, after all the things you've done for me," Blair replied.

"This is the best gift ever," Jo returned her smile. "Thanks, Blair."

"Let me look at you," Mrs. Garrett placed her hands on Blair's forearms as she eyed her up and down. "You look wonderful, Blair," she wrapped her in a tight embrace. They both started to cry a little as Blair hugged her back.

"Thank you Mrs. G.," Blair finally broke the embrace as she wiped tears from her eyes.

"Blair, I am so proud of you. You are strong. Not many know how strong you really are. But I just knew you'd come out of this better than ever!" Mrs. Garrett took both of Blair's hands in her own, as she looked her in the eyes. "There is a goodness and light inside of you that's unbreakable, do you hear me? Unbreakable!"

"Well, hell, I knew that," Antwoine sauntered into the kitchen with his boyfriend. Viktor was Russian. His hair was close cropped with patterns shaved into the sides and moussed on top. He sported a diamond post in one ear. He was very stylish and elegant.

"There is coffee, I think," Viktor spoke in a blasé tone that seemed to mesh perfectly with his Russian accent. Jo poured him a cup of coffee and he sat down next to Nat and Tootie.

"Wow!" Tootie turned and mouthed to Natalie silently.

"Um, Ms. Warner," Morrison entered the kitchen slightly agitated. "There's a woman out here refusing to let me park her vehicle."

Natalie eyed him up and down appreciatively before looking back at Tootie. "Wow!" she mouthed back silently.

"Oh, it's just, uh, you see, it's a Winnebago," Beverly Ann stuttered. "It's my home. I can't give the keys to just anybody."

"I've tried to explain to her," Morrison was agitated, "that I have driven every vehicle imaginable to mankind, but she still refuses to allow me to park it!"

"Everyone!" Mrs. Garrett announced, "This is my sister, Beverly Ann. We've been vacationing together and she drove me down here."

"Welcome, Beverly Ann," Blair shook her hand. "I'm Blair Warner. This is my home. Morrison, here, is an expert driver, I can assure you!"

"Well," she looked back at the handsome young man, "if you think it's all right."

"It's all right," Edna assured. Beverly Ann reluctantly handed over the keys to Morrison.

"Hi, Morrison," Natalie jumped up and shook his hand vigorously. "I'm Natalie Green, a friend of Blair's."

"Morrison Kelly. Pleased to meet you Ma'am."

"Oh call me Natalie," she gushed. "So, Morrison is your first name? Were your parents Doors fans?"

"By the time The Doors came around, I was already six years old," he smiled at her. "That was just a happy accident because I love The Doors."

"What a coincidence! I love The Doors, too!" she smiled broadly.

"Really?" he returned her smile.

"Um, Natalie?" Blair interrupted. "Morrison has to move Beverly Ann's vehicle."

"We'll talk later," Natalie winked at him as Jo rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"I guess introductions are in order," Blair noticed. "Antwoine, these are my closest friends: Natalie, Tootie, and Mrs. Garrett. Oh, and Mrs. Garrett's sister."

"Beverly Ann," Beverly Ann interjected. "But, that's okay," she stated nervously. "You can call me Edna's sister if you want. After all, I am a stranger here, or just strange. Many people have said so. I remember a time when…"

"Beverly Ann?" Edna looked at her reassuringly. "You're not a stranger amongst my friends. These young women are family to me."

"You are most welcome here, Beverly Ann," Blair responded graciously. "Mrs. G's family is our family," she eyed the other girls. "Right?"

"Absolutely!" Jo replied as Nat and Tootie nodded in agreement.

Blair continued with the introductions. "Everyone, this is Antwoine, only the best nurse in the whole wide world! I wouldn't be as well as I am without him. He's become my very dear friend," Blair smiled sweetly at him.

"Girl, I have only just met this gorgeous woman here," he nodded at Mrs. Garrett.

"Oh!" Mrs. G. blushed. "Call me Edna."

"But I can already tell she is full of wisdom. Your healing came from within. That strength and light and goodness she talked about? That's what got you through. I was just there to make sure you didn't overdose on your meds!"

"Americans with their holidays," Viktor grumbled. "So much self aggrandizing, meanwhile poor Russians sit hungry." He looked at Tootie's plate. "Are you to finish that?"

"Viktor!" Antwoine upbraided him. "Manners!"

"In my country we have no such abundance, I apologize."

Tootie slid her plate over to him.

"Your purple mountains are majesty," he bowed his head to her as he began to polish off her eggs and toast. Tootie covered her mouth as she began to laugh.

"I would like you all to meet my very ill mannered and uncouth boyfriend, Viktor," Antwoine shook his head.

"What?" Viktor objected. "I only celebrate American freedom. Where is problem?"

Mrs. G. slipped her arm into Jo's as the others bantered amiably. "Can we talk, Jo?"

"Sure, Mrs. G." They proceeded out onto the veranda.

"It's certainly beautiful here," Mrs. Garrett sighed as she sank down into an adirondack chair next to Jo.

"It's amazing out here, Mrs. G." Jo agreed.

"So? How are you, Sweetheart?"

"I'm hanging in, ya' know? Things haven't been easy with getting Blair better plus working at the Center. It's just such a weird juxtaposition between the two worlds: weekdays in the Bronx, weekends in a Manhattan penthouse or in the Hamptons."

"But, you're dealing with it okay?"

"Up until now, yeah."

"What's different now?"

"Blair is. She's better. She's Blair again. She doesn't need me like she did when she was recovering. I mean, look at this place: all decked out for an upscale party. I wasn't even consulted. She told me she was having a party and that was that! It's like the rich girl's back and I'm just along for the ride."

"Do you think Blair feels that way?"

Jo looked down to her feet. She had allowed Blair to gift her with a pair of brand new tennis shoes that were way out of her price range.

"I don't know, Mrs. G. I think I'm getting sucked in. I mean, before she got beat up, there was no way I would've accepted expensive things from her. But, since the attack, I find myself indulging her. And you know what's weird? I kind of got used to life in the penthouse. I was there for a good reason, but I have to admit, I didn't mind it."

"You think that's a bad thing?"

"It really wasn't. It was like family, ya' know? Bailey was there and Antwoine and we'd play games or go to the park… it was just natural. Monica treated me like I was her own daughter. I actually caught myself wishing that Ma could be more like her." Jo's eyes filled with tears. Mrs. Garrett reached over and covered her hand with her own.

"It's all right, Jo," Mrs. Garrett squeezed her hand. "The things I said to Blair go for you, too. You are strong and loving. What you have been doing shows a lot of character. You have held Blair up, her safe harbor in a terrible storm."

"I love Blair, Mrs. G. But, is it going to cost me everything I thought I knew about myself? Look at this place. Am I going to become just another one of her accessories?"

"Oh, Jo, you haven't lost yourself, if that's what you're worried about."

"It feels that way sometimes, Mrs. G. My own mother doesn't recognize me."

"She doesn't accept who you are, yet. That's different, Jo."

Tears streamed down Jo's cheeks. She stood up and walked towards the edge of the veranda. She wiped the tears from her face as she gazed out at the ocean. Mrs. Garrett followed and stood beside her.

"Tell me all about it," she said softly.

"I just wish she would accept us. It hurts so bad when your own mother rejects you."

"She'll come around, Jo."

"I don't even know if Mom will show up today. Meanwhile, all Blair's family will be here. It's not fair. Why are things always so easy for her and hard for me?"

"Things haven't been easy for her, Jo. Think about it. She risked everything to be with you: her friendships, her family, her fortune. Blair would do anything for you. Don't you know that?"

"I know, I know. Maybe I just can't figure out _why_ she loves me. She's got everything she could ever want or need here."

"The only thing she wants or needs, Jo, is you," Mrs. Garrett spoke softly.

"I guess I just get a little insecure sometimes surrounded by all this opulence. I don't want to forget where I come from, who I am. It would be so easy to get lost in all of this. What would happen then? Would Blair even respect me?"

"Blair loves you for who you are. She's always respected you."

"It feels like things are different since the attack. Things can change in a heartbeat, you know? I'm just afraid of losing her."

"No one can say what's to come, Jo. But I think you're worrying too much."

"Me and Blair," Jo shook her head, "nothing's ever easy with us."

"I can't say that I knew you and Blair would end up in love, but I always knew there was something very special between you. Love takes work. It's a process. It's not easy. You'll both have to make concessions. You'll change and grow together. But you _will_ do it together, Jo. I've never seen two people so connected."

Jo gave her an endearing smile. "We _do_ have this thing together. It is kind of magical, I guess. But, don't tell her I said that, okay?"

"Would I do that?" Mrs. Garrett smiled as she slipped her arm into Jo's.

"Thanks for hearing me out," Jo shuffled her feet. "I don't really have anyone to talk to about this, since my own mother won't listen. I just need to vent every once in awhile."

"You're a remarkable young woman, Jo Polniaczek. Don't you ever lose sight of that."

You're the best, Mrs. G."

* * *

By mid-afternoon, the party was in full swing. People were splashing in the pool, running down to the beach, noshing on hors d'oeuvres and Harold's hot dogs and drinking liberally. Blair had dressed in a striped sailor shirt and shorts with a sweater tied around her shoulders. She had somehow managed to convince Jo to wear the same shirt, but was unsuccessful in persuading her to dress in matching shorts, as Jo wore a pair of cut-offs. Gary and Chris showed up from Peekskill. Gary now sported a goatee, which made him look even more artsy. Seth showed up with his brother, Hunter, and a bevy of friends.

"What's he doing here?" Jo mumbled to Blair.

"I don't know. I didn't invite my old crowd. This must be Mother's doing."

"Did I hear my name taken in vain?" Monica appeared behind them.

"How many people did you invite, Mother?" Blair looked at her questioningly.

"Oh, just some old friends of yours and mine" Monica threw her arms around both their shoulders. "Isn't it wonderful, Dear?"

"I guess," Blair sighed.

It wasn't until three thirty or four when Jo's parents finally arrived.

"Jo!" Charlie called out to her and gave her a big embrace. He turned to Blair and wrapped her in a bear hug. "Blair! You look wonderful, kid!" Jo's mother was less enthusiastic.

"Nice to see you, Honey," she kissed Jo's cheek. "Blair," she eyed her cooly as she took her hand.

"I'm so, um, so glad you could make it, Rose," Blair stuttered nervously.

"I didn't have much choice," she dropped Blair's hand. "Your father sent a limousine out to the Bronx to pick us up."

"It was great!" Charlie enthused.

"It was horrible," Rose spat out. "A limo sitting outside my workplace waiting for me to finish my shift!"

"I'm sorry if my father's actions caused you distress," Blair offered.

"It was embarrassing! What were my co-workers to think? That I was royalty just slumming it with them?"

"Ah… it was great!" Jo's Dad waved her off. "Where is David? I want to thank him!"

"Charlie? There you are!" Monica called out as she threw her arms open.

"Monica!" Charlie hugged her. Both Jo and Rose rolled their eyes.

Monica took both of Rose's hands in her own. "It's so good to see you again, Rose. Welcome to my home."

"Thank you," Rose's response was barely audible.

"Where's that ex of yours?" Charlie smiled at Monica. "I need to see him."

"He's on the veranda," Monica slipped her arm into Charlie's. "But let's get a drink first. Always better to have some liquid reinforcement when dealing with my ex husband!"

"Mrs. Garrett is here?" Rose asked Jo.

"Yeah, why?" Jo responded.

"I have something to say to her," Rose looked about. "Where is she?"

"She's out at the pool, Ma. Don't cause a scene," Jo looked at her plaintively.

Natalie and Tootie had been observing from across the room.

"Jo's Mom doesn't look happy," Tootie speculated.

"Nope," Natalie agreed. "But look at Jo. She's had her hand on Blair's back this whole time."

"Protecting her, no doubt," Tootie said.

"Wow! They are just so damn cute with each other!" Natalie grinned.

"Ah, but Nat, there's going to be trouble!" Tootie added as she watched the threesome head out towards the pool.

Blair grabbed Jo's arm before they entered the pool area. "Your Mom hates me!"

"No she doesn't," Jo tried to reassure. "She's just protective of me."

Mrs. Garrett was sunning herself beside the pool with Beverly Ann. Seth and his brother passed by them.

"Blair's looking hotter than ever, Seth," Hunter ventured.

"She sure is," Seth agreed.

"Boy, are they barking up the wrong tree," Beverly Ann mentioned. "From what I can see of Jo and Blair, that young man doesn't stand a chance!"

"You'd be right there," Mrs. G. agreed.

"Edna!" Rose called out as she approached the two women "I need to talk to you!"

"Oh, Rose, how lovely to see you again! Come, sit with us," Edna offered.

"I would prefer to stand if it's all the same to you!" Rose was adamant.

"Whatever could be the problem?" Edna removed her sunglasses and looked up at her.

"How could you let this happen? All this occurred while you were supposed to be caring for my daughter! Instead you allowed this relationship to fester!" Rose gestured to Jo and Blair who were fast on her heels.

"Knock it off, Ma!" Jo protested.

Mrs. Garrett gazed up at Rose. "I have done nothing that I'm ashamed of. Neither have they. They love each other, Rose."

"It's a sin, Edna!"

"You should be proud of your daughter," Mrs. G. stated. "She's an amazing young woman. And as for Blair? She couldn't have chosen better!"

"Ma, this isn't the time or place," Jo tried to calm her.

"Rose, let's sit and talk about this," Edna gestured to the empty chair beside her.

"I never should've sent her to you and that girls' school to begin with, that's where the problem started!"

Mrs. Garrett stood up to confront Jo's Mom. "Now you stop right there! Jo is a strong, beautiful, intelligent young woman, as is Blair! I, for one, am proud of both of them!"

"You cannot approve of this!" Rose continued.

"As a matter of fact, I do!"

"Ma! Please!" Jo pleaded. Blair stood at a distance from them, mortified.

Rose shook her head. "I just don't see how this could've happened."

"They're in love, Rose," Mrs. Garrett put her hand on Rose's arm. "Be happy for them!"

"Check it out," Hunter nudged Seth. "Something's going down over there."

Seth looked across the pool and saw the two women arguing. Jo was between them. Blair was standing off a little to the side, with her hand to the bridge of her nose, shaking her head.

"Looks like someone may need some comforting," Hunter speculated.

"That's a field just waiting to be plowed, brother! And I'm just the guy to do it!"

They started towards Blair.

"Hey, hold up!" Gary had overheard them.

"I know you're not talking to us," Seth gawked at him.

"Blair doesn't need you hitting on her right now," Gary continued after them.

"You don't stand a chance with a girl like Blair," Seth smirked.

"You're the one who doesn't stand a chance. You have no idea." Gary smiled ironically.

"That's a prime piece of tail, buddy. Way out of your league," Seth shook his head incredulously.

"Don't talk about Blair like that! She's been through a lot. You need to back off!" Gary was getting angry.

"Look at him," Hunter laughed. "It's Maynard G. Krebs!"

"Beat it, hippy," Seth continued towards Blair. "You've got no idea how things work in our set with girls like Blair!"

"With girls like Blair?" Gary was enraged.

"Back off, beatnik! This is none of your business. Besides, you wouldn't know what to do with a good piece of ass if it sat on your face!" Seth mocked him.

"I know what to do with a lowlife cretin when I see one," Gary continued.

"What did you say?" Seth turned on him just as they approached the place where Rose and Edna were arguing.

"Oh now boys," Beverly Ann cautioned. "Let's not let this get out of hand."

"Shut up, you old bag!" Hunter shouted.

"Don't you ever talk to a lady like that!" Gary swung on him, knocking him to the ground.

Jo jumped out of the way. She instinctively looked to Blair, who had placed her hands on her hips and was shaking her head.

"You hit my brother?" Seth was livid.

"Boys, stop!" Mrs. Garrett pleaded.

"Hey!" Chris ran over to try and break it up.

"I'll handle this!" Beverly Ann jumped up, accidently bumping into Seth mid-swing. Seth toppled over into Mrs. Garrett and Rose who toppled over into Gary and Hunter. As Edna fell, she reached out for Beverly Ann who tried to catch her. All six tumbled into the pool. Jo and Chris dived in after them to help fish them out.

* * *

Antwoine and Viktor were watching from the kitchen window.

"Old women fall into pool with young men and lesbians," Viktor laughed. "This is funny, no?"

"Of course it's not funny!" Antwoine could barely contain his own amusement. "We have to get out there and put an end to this."

"I was in Red Army. Who to kill?"

"We are not killing anyone, Viktor! We're just going to end this before it turns into a donnybrook."

"Donny who?" Tootie and Natalie walked into the kitchen.

"Oh, nothing," Antwoine waved his hand dismissively. "I've just got to stop my boyfriend from killing someone… again."

"Ooh, I told you there would be trouble!" Tootie's eyes grew wide as they chased Antwoine and Viktor out of the kitchen.

Gary, Hunter and Seth came up swinging. Antwoine grabbed Seth and held him. Jo held Gary back.

"Let me go!" Gary yelled. "I'm gonna' beat his ass!"

Suddenly there was a silence, as all eyes turned to Viktor. He had Hunter by the throat. "I crush larynx now?" he looked at Blair.

"No!" Blair screamed. "Let him go!"

"Antwoine?" Viktor looked at his boyfriend.

"Let him go, Viktor!" Antwoine released Seth.

"Jesus, Blair!" Seth eyed her. "Who _are_ these people?"

"My friends, Seth," she looked at Antwoine. "Why were you fighting with my friends?"

"This guy said he was going to plow your field, Blair," Gary pointed at Seth.

"Really?" Jo glared at him menacingly.

"Seriously?" Blair gave him a scathing look. "Didn't I introduce you to my girlfriend, Jo, on the beach?"

Seth looked confused. "So… she's _that_ kind of girlfriend? Dina was telling the truth?"

"Yeah, Seth," Blair walked over to Jo and put her arm around her. "She's _that_ kind of girlfriend!"

"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" he complained. "That changes everything!"

"Just leave, Seth," Blair sighed. "And take your brother with you, before I change my mind," she nodded to Viktor.

"This is the best party ever!" Natalie grinned.

"Nat!" Tootie swatted her.

As Seth and Hunter skulked away, Viktor raised both his arms in the air, fists clenched. "America!" he shouted as he ran to the pool and cannonballed with all his clothes on. He seemed to stay under water for an inordinate amount of time. Everyone stood stunned as they waited for him to emerge. Finally, his head popped above the surface. He swam to the side of the pool and rested his arms casually over the edge. He spewed out a long stream of pool water. "Underwater training, Red Army." He grinned up at Antwoine. "This party is getting dull. Where is Vodka?"

Antwoine smiled back at him as he shook his head.

Jo, Rose, Mrs. G. and Beverly Ann wrapped themselves in towels and sat side-by-side in deck chairs shivering.

"Nothing like a cool dip on a hot day," Beverly Ann offered pleasantly.

All four began to laugh.

"I'm sorry, Edna," Rose took Mrs. Garrett's hand. "I shouldn't have come at you like that."

"It's all right, Rose," Edna squeezed her hand. "I guess we're all a little thrown off our game sometimes."

"I've been totally off mine since Jo told me about her and Blair."

"Yeah, so what about that, Ma?" Jo eyed her. "Could you just try to understand?"

"I don't know that I'll ever understand. But, I guess I could try."

"I can't ask for more than that," Jo sighed in relief.

"Meanwhile," Rose looked at Blair, "I wasn't expecting to go swimming. Do you think you have any dry clothes that would fit me?"

Blair was dumbfounded that Rose was actually addressing her in a civil manner.

"I, uh, I…" she stammered. "I think I could find something here in your size," she finally managed.

"Thank you, Blair," Rose smiled at her.

Jo and Blair glanced at each other. A huge smile graced Blair's features before she turned to run into the house and find clothes for Rose.

"Thanks, Ma," Jo reached out and held her mother's hand.

"Maybe I _am_ all wet," Rose squeezed her hand.

They both laughed.

* * *

"So," Charlie slapped David's back, "don't tell me you still live here with your ex during the summer?"

David raised his eyebrows. "Not very likely! I've got a 140 ft. yacht anchored off shore. That's where I like to spend my summers when I can arrange to be home, Charlie!"

"Wow! A 140 ft. yacht," Charlie shook his head. "I'd sure like to get a look at the motor on that baby!"

"Come on out tomorrow!" David invited. "Bring that beautiful daughter of yours. Maybe we can convince her to bring mine along, as well!"

"Seriously? That would be great, David!" Charlie took a swig off his beer.

"Don't let him turn your head, Charlie," Monica took his arm. "This is my friend, David, get your own."

"I'll send a car for you tomorrow, Monica's friend," David smiled. "I'd like to get to know you better."

Jo and Blair arrived on the veranda.

"How are things going at the pool?" Monica queried innocently.

"Don't ask," Jo shook her head.

"Seth and Hunter got drunk and caused a scene, Mother," Blair informed tersely. "I had to ask them to leave. Why did you invite them, anyway?"

"I thought they were your friends!" Monica was surprised.

"So did I," Blair smirked. She absent-mindedly placed her hand on Jo's back. "I have new friends now, I don't really hang out with my old crowd anymore."

"I am so sorry, Darling," Monica apologized. "How unpleasant. Is everyone all right?"

"A few of us got a little wet," Jo grinned. "But no permanent damage."

"Where's Bailey, Mom?" Blair asked.

"She has a play date down on the beach with some other children. The nanny's with her."

"Want to go play with the kids?" Blair asked Jo.

"Yeah," Jo shrugged. "Let's go."

"I'll walk with you," David surprised them.

"Okay, Daddy," Blair beamed as she slid her arm into his. David offered his other arm to Jo.

Jo hesitated. _"This is so weird,"_ she thought. _"But I don't want to seem unfriendly around Blair's Dad."_ She took his arm.

They walked across the wooden path to the beach, Blair filling her Dad in on Viktor and the pool fight.

"The Red Army, huh?" David was astonished. "Maybe I should offer this guy a position with my security team."

"Um, I think he's a cosmetics rep, Daddy," Blair informed.

"Interesting," David commented.

As they approached the sand, Blair spotted Bailey on the beach. "Bailey!" She called out and waved. As Jo and Blair began to move towards her, David stopped Jo.

"You go ahead, Blair," he smiled. "I want to have a word with Jo."

"Why?" Blair was suspicious. "We've had enough problems with parents today, Daddy. I don't want you upsetting Jo."

"I'm not going to upset her, Princess. I just want to thank her."

Jo looked confused.

"Well all right then," Blair relented. "I'll be right over there, Jo," she pointed to where Bailey was playing.

"You don't need to thank me, Mr. Warner," Jo turned to him.

"David," he corrected.

"I haven't done anything you need to thank me for, David," she shook her head.

He leaned against the walkway rail and placed his hands in his pockets. "Blair's mother has informed me different," he began. "She tells me that you came to the penthouse every weekend to help care for Blair. Monica seems to feel that your presence made a big difference in hastening my daughter's recovery, physically and emotionally."

"Anyone would have of done that," Jo shrugged.

"You did that, Jo. My daughter's everything to me. I can't thank you enough for being there for her."

"I love her, David. I would do anything for Blair."

He looked over to where Blair was playing with Bailey. "I'm worried about you two. The life you're choosing is not an easy one. People can be so cruel, Jo. If there's anything you two need, I'm just a phone call away."

Jo looked over to Blair, as well. Blair glanced at them and flashed a huge smile. "We didn't choose this," Jo began as she smiled back at Blair. "People don't choose to fall in love. It just happens. Whatever comes," she looked back to David, "we'll handle it."

"You're both so young," David sighed. "I just want you to know that I'm here to support you in any way I can. You've always impressed me Jo. You're smart and industrious and have displayed great character. Whether you're with my daughter, or not, I want you to know that there will be a position waiting for you at Warner Industries once you graduate college."

"I'll be with your daughter for as long as she'll have me," Jo looked at him earnestly. "Whatever the future holds, we'll face it together."

"I can see why she loves you so much," he nodded. "Listen, I know that Monica looks at you like a daughter. I would like to, as well, if you would let me," he extended his hand. "Welcome to the family."

Jo reached out to shake his hand. He pulled her into a hug and held her tight.

"I'm not good at this sort of thing," he finally said. Jo thought she heard a catch in his voice as he released her.

"You're doing fine," she tried to reassure him.

"Thanks, Jo," he smiled.

"Thank you, David," Jo said as she turned to join Blair on the beach.

"So," Blair asked as Jo sat down next to her, "what was that all about?"

"Parents are so weird," Jo waved her off as Bailey jumped into her arms. "Hey, Bailey!" she smiled at the toddler.

"So everything's all right?" Blair questioned.

"Everything's fine," Jo gave her a quick kiss. "Couldn't be better."

* * *

The rest of the day proceeded without drama. Dinner was served. Guests mingled amiably. Even Rose seemed to get into the spirit of the occasion. A dance floor had been set up, strung with overhead lights. Loud speakers blared out music.

"Now we dance!" Viktor announced as he leapt upon the floor and dramatically extended his arms towards Antwoine. There were many odd couplings as the dancing continued: Gary danced with Monica, Charlie with Chris, David with Beverly Ann, Antwoine with Mrs. Garrett. Tootie, who had determined that most of the guests were either too old, gay or female to be a threat to her boyfriend, Jeff, danced with everyone. Natalie, who had been trying to track down Morrison all day, was finally successful and refused to let him leave the dance floor. Blair and Jo joined the others.

"Seems like we've come full circle," Blair mentioned as they swayed close together.

"How do you mean?" Jo asked.

"It was on an evening like this, dancing under the stars, that we first kissed and told each other how we really felt, remember?"

"I remember," Jo smiled shyly as she looked down. Blair had to dip her head to capture Jo's lips with her own. As if on cue, fireworks began to explode overhead. They joined hands and looked up to the sky.

"Amazing," Blair leaned into Jo. She had a childlike look of wonderment and joy upon her face as she watched the fireworks burst overhead. After everything she had been through: taking a chance on love, being yelled at and mocked by friends and strangers for it, the trauma of a frightful beating, enduring weeks of recovery, coming out to family and friends, facing down prejudice… she could still gaze at fireworks with the delight of a child. Mrs. G. was right. There was a strength and light within her that refused to yield. She was innately good-natured and kind. Her love for life was palpable. Jo felt her heart swell with a sudden rush of love and tenderness. How could she have ever done anything but love Blair? She slipped her arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.

"Amazing."


	9. Falling Back In

Julie Bernstein's appearance surprised Blair. Jo had described her as serious and driven. From Jo's description, she had expected a stout, no-nonsense woman with her hair in a bun and her panties in a twist. Julie was actually very stylish. She was a voluptuous blonde in her mid thirties with brown eyes and a great sense of humor. Everyone on the Warner Foundation Board was charmed and impressed.

"You can count on our continued support," the Chairman, Mr. Kovak, smiled broadly at her.

"Thank you, Mr. Kovak," she gathered her things to leave.

Blair rounded the board table and made a beeline towards her.

"Ms. Bernstein," she stopped her. "I'm Blair Warner. I was instrumental in getting you the grant for the Bronx Community Outreach Center."

"I appreciate that so much, Ms. Warner!" Julie shook her hand. "May I ask what interested you in the Bronx?"

"I have a friend from there," Blair informed her. "She really peaked my interest."

"Then you must drop by and see it for yourself!" Julie offered.

"I can come now!" Blair smiled.

* * *

Jo sat beside an old man shuffling papers. "You see, Mr. Sanchez, if you want your meds sent to your daughter's address because you live with her now, we're going to have to re-file this paperwork with Medicare."

"Oh," his voice was shaky. "I don't know how to do that."

"Don't worry," Jo took his hand. "I'm going to see to all of that."

"Jo!" Julie called out as she entered the Center. "I want you to meet someone!"

Blair appeared behind Julie.

" _Shit!"_ Jo thought to herself as Mr. Sanchez patted her cheek.

"This is the best girl," he pointed at Jo. "She always takes care of me!" he toddled off.

"I knew that," Blair smiled at Jo.

"Blair, what are you doing here?"

"You two know each other?" Julie was surprised.

Blair was silent as she waited for Jo to explain.

"You could say that," Jo smirked. "Remember the girlfriend I told you I was seeing? Julie Bernstein, meet Blair Warner."

Julie's mouth dropped. "Blair Warner? Blair Warner is your girlfriend?"

"Yeah," Jo shook her head. "I didn't want anybody to know." She looked up at Blair. "Thanks!" she eyed her in an exasperated fashion.

"This is certainly unexpected," Julie lifted her eyebrows.

"It's not okay, Blair. What are you doing here?"

"We had a board meeting downtown," Blair shrugged. "Julie invited me out."

"I never would have if…" Julie was flummoxed. "Why didn't you tell me this?" she looked at Jo questioningly.

"I didn't want anyone to think I got the internship here because of Blair."

"I see," Julie replied.

"Which she didn't, by the way," Blair smiled. "We funded this place well after Jo had been accepted as an intern."

"This is really not any of my business," Julie demurred. She glanced at her watch. "Looks like it's time for your lunch break, Jo. Maybe you two could discuss this elsewhere?" she suggested.

* * *

"What the hell, Blair?" Jo was angry as they walked down the street.

"What? You thought I wouldn't eventually meet Julie?"

"Yeah, but not like this!" Jo complained adamantly.

"You were hiding me, Jo."

"I was not!"

"Yeah, you were. I don't know if you were ashamed of me or it was like you said and you didn't want anyone to think you were receiving any special favors, but you were hiding me."

"I'm not ashamed of you, Blair. But this is my world out here and you have to let me navigate it on my own terms!"

"So, it's okay for you to be in my world, I just can't be in yours?"

"Ah, it's not that easy, Blair. Things are different here."

Blair slipped her hand into Jo's. "I want to be with you in any world."

Jo immediately shook Blair's hand off. "We're in the Bronx, you can't do that!"

"Why?" Blair was offended. "Are your people so precious that they can't handle two girls in love?"

"They're not precious, believe me, Blair," Jo shook her head. "Some are homophobic and dangerous. We could get our butts kicked just for standing too close!"

"Completely ridiculous," Blair flipped her hair. "But I've already had my butt kicking for this year, thank you very much! So, where are we going for lunch?"

"There's a little Italian place on the corner," Jo smiled at her begrudgingly.

They sat in a corner booth and Blair let Jo order for the both of them.

"Why didn't you tell me how attractive Julie is?"

"Because what she looks like doesn't matter," Jo sighed.

"She's very beautiful and quite stylish, I might add," Blair continued. "She looks like an older version of me."

"Wow! Ego-much? She's a ball-buster, Blair. She gets things done. She's a no-nonsense, down-to-earth woman. The opposite of you."

"Don't tell me you didn't notice," Blair smirked at her.

"Get over yourself, already, will ya'?"

"It explains a lot, like why you didn't want me to come out here to the Center."

"You're being a jerk, Blair. I never said you couldn't come to the Center."

"Yes, you did. When Tootie and Natalie were visiting on the Fourth of July weekend."

Jo exhaled loudly. "Okay, so maybe I did say that. But only because I knew how you'd react to Julie."

"So you _were_ hiding me!"

"For the last time: I wasn't hiding you! I am not ashamed of you! I love you for some perverse reason!" Jo voice rose above the din of the restaurant. Some of the other patrons looked in her direction. "Damn it, Blair," Jo whispered. "Now look what you've gone and made me do!"

"Don't blame me if you can't control your temper," Blair replied haughtily.

"Are you kids all right over here?" the waitress inquired as she delivered their lunches.

"We're fine, thanks," Jo nodded. As the waitress walked away, she returned her attention back to Blair. "I didn't want you coming around the Center because I worry about you," Jo looked at her sincerely. "This can be a rough neighborhood. I just don't want anything bad happening to you because of me. Can you understand that?"

"Oh, Jo," that's so sweet," she reached over the table and held Jo's hand.

"Not here, Blair, okay?" Jo withdrew her hand.

"You know you're going to have to give up on always wanting to protect me. It's just not practical, Jo. I've got to be out in the world, take chances like everyone else," Blair sampled her pasta. "Mmm, this is delicious."

"They _do_ have good food here," Jo smiled proudly, obviously pleased that Blair had approved of the cuisine.

"Speaking of getting out in the world, I've got to go back to Peekskill in a couple weeks," Blair mentioned.

Jo shook her head. "What a weird segue, Blair. Out in the world and Peekskill don't exactly go together. Besides, _this_ feels like our world now."

"What do you mean by that?" Blair looked perplexed.

"New York City! I've really gotten used to being here with you. It just feels right here in a way that Peekskill doesn't anymore."

"What are you saying? That you don't want to go back?"

"No. We have to go back: school, Mrs. G., the business. But why so soon, Blair?"

"I have to make up the incompletes I got in my classes last spring so I can register for the fall semester. I've been in touch with my professors. I've just got to make up my finals, really. They've agreed to let Mrs. Garrett proctor, but I think she had to sign something over in blood to the university."

"Can't you just go get your books and bring them back here to study?"

"I want to set up our apartment, Jo. I've ordered furniture to be delivered and such. I want to get going on that!"

"Oh," Jo looked sad. "I guess our summer fun is over then."

"Maybe not completely," Blair gazed at her. "Are you coming out this weekend?"

"Yeah. I always do, why?"

"I thought maybe we could stay at the penthouse. Have some time to ourselves."

"Aah, I don't mind your Mom and Bailey being around at the beach house. It's kinda' family-like, you know?"

"I can't believe you just said that about my Mom!"

"I know, right? Me neither. I mean, she still gets to me a little, Blair. She's so full of rich people ways. But, I gotta' admit, she's been great to me."

"Thanks, Jo. That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside," Blair resisted the urge to join hands again.

"Let's not get carried away here," Jo eyed her.

"The reason I want to stay at the penthouse is because I want to go out this Saturday night"

"Yeah?" Jo perked up. "Where?"

"Antwoine invited us to see a drag show at the club where he runs sound."

"Wow, I've never seen a for-real drag show before," Jo eyes lit up. "Unless you count the midnight showings of _Rocky Horror_."

"I have a feeling this will be a little more interesting than that," Blair smiled. "So… it's a date?"

"It's a date, Blondie." This time it was Jo who reached across the table to join hands.

"What do we got here?" a young man interrupted their lunch. "Take this shit back to the Village where it belongs!"

Jo realized she was holding Blair's hand. _Shit! I just knew this was going to happen!_

"Hey," he jerked his head towards his friend. "Get a load of the freak show!"

"What's going on, Angelo?" a handsome young man joined him. "Jo!" he called out.

"Pauly!" Jo jumped up and hugged him.

"You got a problem with my cousin, Angelo?"

"Oh, sorry, Pauly. I didn't know she was your cousin!"

"Beat it!" Pauly jerked his head towards the door. He slid into the booth next to Jo. "Paul Largo," he reached his hand out to Blair.

"Blair Warner," she took his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"So this is Blair?" Pauly looked at Jo disbelievingly. "She's even more beautiful than you described!"

"Blair, this is my cousin, Pauly," Jo made the introduction. "I guess I've kind of told him a little about you."

"A little!" Pauly laughed. "She goes on and on about you! It's always _Blair this_ or _Blair that_ with this one," he nodded towards Jo. "I feel like I know you!"

"So you told him about us, Jo?"

"Well actually," Pauly interrupted, "Aunt Rose told my Dad and he told us. But it's fine! We ain't got a problem with it, especially after meeting you! Wow!"

Blair smiled broadly. "It's good to finally meet someone from Jo's family. She's been hiding me."

"Don't start with that again, Blair," Jo warned.

"I wouldn't be hiding this one, Cous," Pauly shook his head. "She's a keeper!"

"I intend on keeping her," Jo glared at Blair. "So long as she doesn't annoy me to death first!"

They decided to order dessert. Blair was fascinated as she listened to the cousins' banter. Jo's Bronx accent became very pronounced as she laughed and joked with Pauly.

"Hey, I gotta' be getting back to work," Jo finally remembered.

"It was great meeting you," Pauly shook Blair's hand as they stood. "Great to put a face to a name, ya' know?"

"It was very nice meeting you, too," Blair smiled.

Pauly suddenly hugged her.

"Hey! Pauly! That's my girl!"

"Eh! She's family now, right?"

"Get outta' here," Jo punched his arm affectionately.

* * *

Blair found it hard to resist the urge to slip her arm into Jo's as they walked back to the Center. "You know?" she began, "I don't think the Bronx is such a bad place."

"It's got its moments," Jo had to admit. "I love it here."

"I can see why. People always want to paint a place with one brush, no nuance, no shades. But every place has its good and bad, don't you think?"

"Don't get me wrong, Blair. There are some real run-down, dangerous places in the Bronx. Places you just don't want to be."

"We need to do something about that, Jo."

" _We?_ " Jo questioned.

"Yep, you and me. I think the Warner Foundation needs to make a bigger investment out here. You could be instrumental in guiding us."

Jo regarded her adoringly. "I love you, Blair Warner." She slipped her hand into Blair's.

"How scandalous!" Blair squeezed her hand. They both laughed.

They were still laughing as they entered the Center.

"Oh, good, you're back," Julie eyed them. "Your driver has been getting fleeced by some of our best hustlers, Ms. Warner," she inclined her head to where Jimmy was playing backgammon with some old men.

"Call me Blair, please."

"So, everything's okay?" Julie looked at them both.

"We're good," Jo grinned. "But, hey, I better get over there and rescue Jimmy."

"Jo!" Jimmy gave her a big smile as he saw her approach.

"Hey, Jimmy," she returned his smile. "Did you get to visit your Mom out here this time?"

"I sure did! Blair is great about that kind of stuff. She always makes sure I see my Mom when I drive her out here. One time she even took us both out to lunch."

"So," Jo was confused. "Blair has had you drive her out to the Bronx before?"

"Yeah, a couple times. I've given her the whole tour. She said she just wanted to get to know the area. Asked lots of questions."

"I didn't know that," Jo said softly.

"I don't know that her mother does either. Not sure she would approve. But Blair is the best. She's so down-to-earth and regular. What a sweet girl, just the best."

Jo looked back over to where Blair was chatting with Julie. "She is."

* * *

"Blair! Jo!" Antwoine called out to them and waved them over as they entered the club.

"Antwoine!" Blair kissed and hugged him.

"I've got a place reserved for you right up front!" He led them to a table with two drinks already poured. They sat down as he continued talking. "I'm going to take you back stage before the show begins," he offered breathlessly. "You have got to see these queens getting ready. It's better than the stage show! Plus, Viktor's back there, helping with makeup. So drink up!"

"Um, wait," Jo was confused. " _Viktor's_ doing makeup?"

"Girl?" Antwoine looked at her incredulously. "He's a cosmetic rep! He knows all about makeup!"

"Another of his Red Army skills, no doubt," Jo joked.

"More like the Pink Army, but I'll let that one slide," Antwoine swatted her playfully. "Don't believe all of Viktor's stories. He's actually just a poor kid from Ukraine. He got over here through some religious group, if you can believe that! I'm not even sure if he was ever really in the army."

"He talks a good game," Jo nodded.

"Give him enough vodka and he'll claim to have been a KGB operative! I love him anyway."

"So how's your new job?" Blair asked.

"A sweet old lady in Chelsea. She fell and broke a hip. But you know you'll always be my favorite, Blair."

"I know," Blair flipped her hair as Jo shook her head.

"C'mon," Antwoine grabbed their hands. "We're going back stage."

"Whoa!" Jo gasped as she viewed the queens preparing themselves. "I've never seen so many beautiful women in one room! Um, I meant guys, I guess."

"That's okay, honey," one of them called out. "We're all girls here."

"Speak for yourself, Hunty," another one laughed. "I'm a man in a dress."

"Queen, please," another chimed in. "You call that a dress?"

Suddenly, all eyes were on Blair. She had dressed in a form fitting, knee length party dress with a slit up one leg. It was shimmery blue green and gave the effect of ocean waves as she walked. She had topped it off with a sheer, sea foam green, silk scarf that draped across her back. Her stiletto heels completed the look.

"Who is this vision, Antwoine?" a queen inquired.

Another one began circling her, eyeing her up and down. "I don't know who you are, but you are doing the best Blair Warner impression I have ever seen!"

"I am Blair Warner," she shrugged.

A hush descended upon the room.

"We are in the presence of royalty!" someone blurted out excitedly.

"I guess the drag scene has really arrived!" yet another proclaimed proudly. "I never thought I'd see the day!"

They all began to laugh as they crowded around her.

"Where did you get that dress? Tell me it was a private boutique showing and not off the rack at Neiman Marcus!"

"Why, yes," Blair nodded and rolled her eyes coquettishly, obviously enjoying the attention. "However did you know?" She placed her fingertips delicately upon her chest in an exaggeratedly feminine manner, tilted her head and smiled coyly.

"Oh brother," Jo complained at her posturing.

"The scarf is to die for!" a young queen approached her, placing his fingers next to her scarf, but being careful not to touch her. "I love how you've draped it!"

"Your makeup is perfection!" another marveled.

"Makeup is not perfection," Viktor eyed Blair. "Come with me."

"I've got to get back out to the sound board," Antwoine kissed Viktor. "See you after the show!"

Blair and Jo followed Viktor to a dressing table as the queens went back to their preparations.

"Sit," Viktor commanded. Blair sat. "New product," he informed as he squeezed some lotion onto his fingers. "Will hide scars."

"Oh, nothing's going to hide my scars, Viktor. When I got the first one from my car accident, I tried everything."

"Quiet now," Viktor said. "Face must be still." He delicately applied the lotion to the two new scars on Blair's face. He then gently massaged the area.

"I'm telling you, Viktor, nothing's going to work. But it's okay. I've gotten used to the fact that I have flawed beauty. It's the new me. I'm just going to…"

"Look," Viktor directed her glance to the mirror.

"Oh my!" Blair exclaimed. She moved her head back and forth disbelievingly. "That's marvelous!"

"Of course," Viktor crossed his arms on his chest. "Am I good or what?"

"Jo!" Blair called out excitedly. "Do you see this?"

"Yeah, Blair!" Jo was amazed, as well. "Do her forehead scar now, Viktor!"

"It conceals without looking like makeup," he explained as he applied the cream to Blair's forehead. "Now we drink!"

* * *

Viktor sat with Blair and Jo as the show began. The emcee was hilarious. Jo laughed so hard that tears streamed down her face. She and Blair found themselves a particular source of amusement for his caustic observations. But she didn't care. It was just so damn funny!

Viktor critiqued each queen as she lip-synched. "Dress is horrible. Looks like throw-up on wedding day. This one has five o'clock shadow. Who wants queen who looks like Fred Flintstone? Ooh! That queen trip on gown! So funny when they fall!"

By the time the show was over, Jo sides were actually aching from laughter. Antwoine rejoined them.

"So what did you think?"

"It was the best, Antwoine," Jo enthused. "I can't thank you enough."

"The whole key, Jo, is to have a good emcee. We have the best!"

"He is old man," Viktor said disdainfully.

"And the best!" Antwoine eyed him. "We've talked about this, Viktor. Not everyone can be young and beautiful."

"But would be nice," Viktor blew air through his lips so that they audibly vibrated.

"So when are you leaving, Blair?" Antwoine turned to her.

"In a couple weeks, I think."

"I sure am going to miss you."

"I'll be back. We'll always be friends. Meanwhile, you can come up to Peekskill to see my new digs."

"I know that the sentence makes sense to you," Antwoine grinned ironically, "But… Peekskill? Uh-uh! That's a little countrified for the likes of me. But, I'll see you Monday at the GMHC office, right?"

"What's the GMHC?" Jo looked at Blair.

"Gay Men's Health Crisis," Antwoine informed. "You've heard of AIDS, right?"

"Of course," Jo responded.

"Blair and I have been volunteering over there on some weekdays."

"Doing what?" Jo was shocked as she looked over at Blair.

"Answering phones mainly," Blair responded.

"Don't downplay it, Blair," Antwoine interjected. "So many people with so many questions… the phone line is vital!"

"So this is what you have been doing on weekdays?" Jo was astonished. "Answering phones at the Gay Men's Health Crisis office?"

"Oh, she does more than that," Antwoine smiled. "She drives folks to doctors appointments, picks them up from the hospital, takes them food, drives them _to_ the hospital…"

"In your Porsche?" Jo gasped.

"If you got to go, why not go in style?" Viktor downed a shot of vodka.

"Charming," Antwoine chastised him.

"I only speak truth."

"Blair," Jo looked at her wonderingly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I? Your work in the Bronx is just as important. It's not like I wanted to burden you with this."

"I don't know," Jo shook her head. "Just seems like something you might share."

"Oh no," Antwoine threw his hand in front of his mouth dramatically. "I hope I haven't caused a problem in Girlfriendland!"

"Look, Jo, I just wanted to do something for once besides throw money at a problem. I _have_ donated a lot of money, but I wanted to become personally involved when I found out I couldn't persuade the Foundation to take this on."

"Why won't they?" Jo asked.

"They say there's not enough information yet. So, anyway, I wanted to help. This health crisis is affecting us all and the government is not doing anything about it!"

"What I don't get is why you didn't tell me. I thought I was supposed to be the one you loved and told everything to. I thought we agreed on total transparency in our relationship."

"You _are_ the one I love and tell everything to, Jo. I just didn't want to bother you with it. I didn't want you to think I was doing it to compete with you, that I was doing it for the wrong reasons. You know how you didn't want Julie to know I was your girlfriend because she might think you were at the Center because of me? I didn't tell you for kind of the same reason."

"I guess I get it," Jo still looked perplexed. "I _am_ proud of you."

"Good," Viktor slammed his glass down on the table. "Lesbian relationship crisis is over. We need vodka! Where is waiter? Franco!" he called for the waiter. "He is snotty waiter, thinks he is all that and a bag of potato chips, as well. I call him Franco American," he said in an aside to Blair and Jo. "But he is no San Francisco treat." Viktor laughed at his own joke.

Jo and Blair giggled.

"Uh, that's Rice-A-Roni, Viktor," Antwoine corrected him. "Rice-A-Roni is the San Francisco treat."

"Yeah, Franco American is Beefaroni," Jo chimed in.

"Actually, Beefaroni is Chef Boyardee, Jo," Blair corrected her. "Franco American is SpaghettiOs!"

"It is?" Jo looked at her questioningly. "Wait a minute, Blair. How do _you_ know that?"

"We discussed branding in one of my marketing classes. Besides, Nat and Tootie were always trying to sneak Beefaroni in, don't you remember? Mrs. Garrett wouldn't have it."

"Yeah, that's right," Jo recalled. "She wanted only fresh ingredients."

"Speaking of ingredients," Blair turned to Viktor, "what was in that concealer you used on me? I want to tell my Father to invest!"

"Not approved by FDA," Viktor informed.

"Oh," Blair looked somewhat disconcerted. "Why would the FDA have to pass on face cream?"

"Has secret ingredient. It is Russian, not to worry."

"Wait a minute, Viktor, you put that on my face. I think I have a right to know what's in it!"

"Yeah," Jo found this amusing. "What's the secret ingredient?"

"Something to do with turtles or frogs or something green from forbidden area," Viktor shrugged.

"Forbidden area, like what? Chernobyl?" Blair was getting upset.

"Maybe, I don't remember," Viktor shrugged again.

"Oh my God!" Blair turned to Jo in a panic. "Is my skin peeling off? Am I glowing? Quick," she dipped a napkin into a glass of water. "Help me wipe it off!"

"Relax," Viktor laughed. "I would not hurt your beautiful skin. I have reputation to protect!"

"Okay, Viktor, joke's over," Antwoine admonished him. "Tell Blair the truth."

"Truth is product is not legal here. Extract from endangered species, but not from Chernobyl."

"I don't even want to know what species," Blair shook her head. "I let you put that on my face!"

"Relax, Blair," Jo patted her hand. "Your face is fine."

"My face has endangered species extract plastered all over it!"

"You look beautiful, what is problem?" Viktor asked indifferently. "Americans… so precious about animals but make mess of Third World."

"He's got a point there," Jo acknowledged.

"Polluting, stealing natural resources," Viktor went on. "Then put feather in cap and call if Beefaroni."

"I give up," Antwoine rolled his eyes.

* * *

"I think this is my favorite part of being with you," Blair looked lovingly at Jo.

They were naked, bodies intertwined as they held each other.

"What?" Jo asked with a wry grin. "Having sex?"

"Well, yeah," Blair gave her a flirtatious smile. "But, I actually meant now. The part after sex where we hold each other all sticky and warm."

"I thought you were going to say the part where I make you scream my name in ecstasy," Jo sighed. "Just shows how little I know about you."

"What? You know everything about me!" Blair's voice dropped to a suggestive whisper. "Intimately."

"I didn't know you were taking fieldtrips to the Bronx with Jimmy."

"Oh that," she rested her cheek against Jo's and ran her hand up and down her thigh. "I knew you would never show me where you come from, so I took matters into my own hands."

"And working for Gay Men's Health Crisis? Giving AIDS patients rides in your car? I never in a million years would've guessed you would do something like that. It feels like there's a lot I still don't know about you!"

"Are you mad at me, Jo?"

"No, Blair, I'm not mad at you. I'm just surprised, is all. What motivated all this?"

"You did," Blair looked her in the eyes and traced the shape of her lips with a finger.

"I'm not following," Jo tenderly brushed a strand of blonde hair away from her face.

"You do everything so effortlessly, Jo. You're top of the class academically, you basically run student government, you help poor kids and seniors in your old neighborhood, plus you find time to participate in team sports like field hockey, basketball and softball. People look up to you, they follow you, you're a leader. I want to be like that."

"I'm still not sure I understand," Jo shook her head.

"What do I do, Jo, besides shop and throw money at problems?"

"Ah, you do lots of things, Blair," she ran her hand up and down her back reassuringly.

"Like what, I'd like to know," Blair laid her head on Jo's shoulder.

"You are kind to people. You've always been there to help me or Nat or Tootie or Mrs. G. with whatever we needed. If you find out something is wrong, you try to right it, like that time with your Grandfather and the Blair Library."

"See, that's what I mean, Jo. Not a stellar list of accomplishments on my own."

"Being a good friend is an accomplishment, Blair. Besides, you do more than that. You, um…"

"I, um, what? See, you can't think of anything."

"You serve on the Board of the Warner Foundation. That's huge, Blair. That puts you in a position to do a great deal of good for a lot of people."

"The Warner Foundation was set up by my father. It's not my accomplishment. I want to be recognized for my own contributions, like you are. I want to be respected, like you are. How can I expect to stay in your orbit if I don't have anything to give but beauty, panache and good shopping skills?"

Jo laughed a little. She found it amusing that even in her most vulnerable moments, Blair could find a way to compliment her own looks and sense of style.

"Blair, answer me something," she placed a kiss on tangled blonde hair and gave her a little squeeze. "When you give those guys a ride to a doctor's appointment, or take them a meal, or answer a phone call from a desperate and scared AIDS patient, are you thinking of how it will impress people?"

"No. I'm thinking about them. It's so heinous and unfair. That could be Antwoine or Viktor, God forbid."

"Right. You didn't even tell _me_ about it. So obviously you aren't volunteering your time to _stay in my orbit,_ as you put it. You're doing it because you're a good person, with a huge heart, who can't tolerate injustice and suffering," she lifted her chin so that she could look into her eyes. "That's more than good enough for me," she kissed her.

"Really, Jo?"

Jo looked her up and down as she ran her hand across her thigh, up her side, over a breast and then back down her arm, letting it come to rest on her rear end. "I mean the beauty doesn't hurt," she smiled mischievously as she patted her backside.

"Jo," Blair swatted her playfully.

"Listen, Blair. We've travelled different paths to get to where we are now. I wouldn't change a single step, because it brought me to you. I wouldn't change a thing along your path, either. Whatever you did or didn't do, whoever you did it with, however you felt about it: all these things carried you to me. It's okay that we're different. I thought we agreed on that."

"I just want you to respect me, Jo."

Jo brushed the hair from Blair's face and let her hand rest on her cheek. "I wouldn't be with you if I didn't respect you, Babe."

They exchanged a knowing glance, their own private telepathy at work.

"The future is ours to choose," Jo finally continued. "We can make of our lives whatever we want."

"I like that," Blair ran her fingers through Jo's hair. "You know? I've been giving a lot of thought to my future. I mean, I guess I want to be a lawyer."

"Or you could choose to be an artist, Blair. You certainly have the talent."

"I love doing art. I enjoy the process. It helps me to feel centered and calm. But, I can't see choosing it as a profession. That might ruin it for me. Nope. I think I'll go ahead and apply to law school."

"You could do a lot of good through your Dad's company, Blair. There's a lot of power there, an opportunity to do good on a massive level."

"You think I should work for my Father?"

"I think you should do what makes you happy. I'm just saying that most people don't have the opportunity to make an impact the way you do. I mean, think about it. You could beef up the Warner Foundation so that it becomes a major player in social justice. You could affect work conditions and quality of life issues for workers all over the world. You could make the company an example to the corporate world of how it's possible to be decent to people while still making a profit."

"Those are big dreams, Jo. Noble goals. But, I don't know. It seems so huge to me. I don't know if I can do it. What _about_ the profit margin, you know? What if I end up running Daddy's company into the ground?"

Jo considered what it would be like to be the only heir to such an enormous fortune, what it would be like to have the weight of all those expectations on such young shoulders. She couldn't really imagine it, but it had to be frightening at times. She took stock of her. Blair's brow was furrowed as she bit her lower lip. She gathered her in her arms. "You don't have to make any decisions right now, Blair," she kissed her forehead. "And whatever you choose, I'll be right there with you. I want to face the future together. Can you promise me that?" she kissed her hand.

"I want that, too, Jo," Blair smiled sweetly.

"Good to know, Blair."

Blair rolled over onto her back. "Well, I'm going to make an executive decision right now. We need a mirror over this bed so I can watch while you go down on me."

"What? That's a bit of a non-sequitur, Blair."

"Watching the dark hair of your head planted between my legs while they're spread wide apart… I think that would be so erotic! Don't you?"

"Uh, I would have a slightly different view, Blair. Just as erotic, but…"

"You could watch me do it to you, too, Silly!"

"We're not putting a mirror over your bed in your Mother's house! What would she think?"

"Okay, then, we'll put a mirror over our bed in Peekskill. C'mon," she rolled over and draped her arm across Jo. "You know you want to!" She kissed her cheek.

"You're incorrigible, Blair."

They lay together in silence for a few minutes, gently rubbing each other's backs. Suddenly, Blair remembered something. "How's my face, Jo?"

"Huh? Blair you've got to stop with the non-sequiturs, I'm getting whiplash here!"

"No. I'm just wondering if anything's developing from Viktor's mystery lotion, like a rash or like I'm turning into something or someone."

"What are you talking about Blair?"

"He probably got that stuff from the KGB. You know how Russians like to preserve everything, like Lenin's body and such. They've probably got all sorts of chemical substances with which to experiment on unsuspecting Free World denizens. Maybe this lotion will turn me into a communist or something."

"That's just plain stupid, Blair. Your face is fine."

"Yeah, well, if you wake up next to Joseph Stalin tomorrow, don't say I didn't warn you!"

"I consider myself warned."

* * *

Blair arrived at Mrs. Garrett's house late. Not surprisingly, Mrs. G. had a meal prepared for her.

"I'm so glad you're here, Blair," she gave her a huge hug. "It gets a little lonely around here in the summer with just me and the boys."

"How are George and Andy?"

"Oh, they're fine," Mrs. G. smiled as she helped Blair drag in her many bags. "Come and sit down and eat."

Mrs. Garrett sat at the table with Blair.

"How's the temporary help working out this summer?" Blair inquired about the business as she began to eat.

"The kids we hired are just great! But, I don't want to talk about that. I want to hear about you and Jo! What have you been doing since I saw you last?"

Blair told Mrs. G. about weekends at the beach and the penthouse and of her trips to the Bronx. She told her about her times with Antwoine and her work at GMHC.

"I'm so proud of you and Jo," Mrs. Garrett gushed. "What fine young women you've grown up to be!"

"I miss her already," Blair sighed.

"I won't take that personally," Mrs. Garrett smiled warmly.

"Oh, Mrs. Garrett, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it that way! I only meant…"

"Blair," Mrs. Garrett took her hand, "I'm teasing you. Of course you miss Jo. I'm not in the least bit offended!"

"I want to thank you so much for helping me out with my finals," Blair acknowledged.

"We have to get that done by next week, Blair," Mrs. Garrett looked at her apprehensively. "Do you think you can manage that?"

"I think so. I'll study in the mornings and then take care of stuff at the apartment in the afternoons. I want to have it ready for Jo when she shows up in a couple weeks!"

"Jo's not coming up sooner?"

"No. I told her to stay away until I had the place ready. I want everything to be perfect!"

"Well, all right. Just so long as you get enough studying in first!" Mrs. G. spoke like a concerned mother.

"I will, Mrs. Garrett, don't worry."

Blair grew weary of studying after a couple of hours on Monday morning. The room felt empty and lonely without Jo, anyway. She looked down upon the bed where she and Jo had first made love. It seemed like ages ago now. _This place will always be special to me_ she reflected. She went down to the store.

"I'm going shopping, Mrs. G.," she told her. "The furniture is supposed to arrive today at the apartment."

"But, Blair! It's only 10:30. Have you done enough studying?"

"I think so. My brain hurts from textbooks. I need to look at something else for awhile."

"Well, okay, then," Mrs. Garrett shook her head. "What time will you be home?"

"In time for dinner."

"Call me if you're going to be late!" Mrs. G. called after her as the jingling shop bells indicated the door was shut. "I worry about you," she continued to herself.

Blair started down the streets of Peekskill. She knew exactly the store she wanted to visit: a cute little bed and bath boutique off the main street. She knew just what she was going to get! _Perfumed soaps, potpourri, an elegant soap tray,_ she ran the list over in her head. Someone shouted behind her. Blair turned in a panic to see what was happening as two friends greeted each other on the sidewalk. A sudden sense of dread crept upon her. She was remembering something. _What is it?_ She continued on towards the shop. A car backfired and Blair nearly jumped out of her skin! There was a ringing in her ears. She placed both hands over them. _What is it? What is it?_ She stood frozen in place as people walked by her, eyeing her with concern. _Just walk, Warner, just walk._ She started again towards the shop. She felt someone close behind her. She whirled around to see… a woman with her dog. _What is wrong with me?_ She took two steps more before being overwhelmed by a sense of terror.

The bells jingled again at _Over Our Heads._ Mrs. Garrett looked to see who had entered. There stood Blair, ashen-faced and shaking.

"Mrs. Garrett?" her voice was plaintive.

Mrs. Garrett could tell something was terribly wrong as she scurried towards her and placed an arm around her. "Come with me," she whispered as she led her to the dining room. Blair collapsed into her arms sobbing.

"I remember, Mrs. Garrett, I remember!"

"Oh, Blair," was all Mrs. Garrett could manage as she held her tight. "Let's go sit on the couch," she finally suggested as she led her into the living room. She took the young woman's hand and patted it. "Tell me about it."

"I remember the whole thing: the blow, the sidewalk, the kick, the hatred!"

"No one's going to hurt you here, Blair. You are safe."

Mrs. Garrett fetched a pot of tea from the kitchen. She poured a cup for Blair and handed it to her. The color seemed to return to her face as she sipped it.

"What a strange feeling, Mrs. Garrett. I've never experienced anything like this."

"It's a perfectly normal reaction, Blair. After all, you haven't been here since the attack."

"But, I thought I was over this," she shook her head. "I told Jo that I wasn't afraid, that I was angry. I've never felt this way before. I've never been afraid of anything in my life, but expectations and my failure to meet them."

"You put a lot of pressure on yourself, Blair. But, everything you're feeling now is a quite normal and natural response to a horrendous act of violence being perpetrated upon you."

"Oh God," Blair remembered. "The furniture is being delivered today. I don't know if I can go over there by myself!"

"I'll come with you," Mrs. Garrett comforted.

"Thanks, Mrs. G." Blair relaxed back onto the couch.

* * *

"It's Mrs. Garrett," Rose held the phone out to Jo.

"Mrs. Garrett?" Jo questioned her Mom. _Why would Mrs. Garrett be calling on a Wednesday evening unless_ … "Did something happen to Blair?" she looked at her mother with alarm. Rose shrugged as she handed her the phone.

"What's up, Mrs. Garrett?" Jo questioned anxiously.

"It's Blair, Jo," was the reply.

"Just give it to me straight, Mrs. G. What happened?"

"She's remembered the attack. She's refusing to go outside. The upside is she's getting all her studies done!" Mrs. Garrett added nervously. "But, Jo, it isn't healthy. She needs you. Can you come up this weekend?"

"Yeah, of course! I'll leave now if you think that's best!"

"Tomorrow will be fine," Edna reassured. "I don't want to have to worry about you speeding on your motorcycle at night."

"How bad is it, Mrs. G.?"

"She desperately wanted to have the apartment set up for you, Jo. But once the furniture was dropped off, she refused to go back. I've tried to intervene, had her friends Gary and Chris come over and talk to her. But, she still refuses to go out. I'm worried about her."

"That's not like her," Jo agreed. "I talked to her yesterday. She sounded fine."

"She says she's just focused on her studies, but it's more than that. She's not dealing well with being here again after what happened."

"Have you spoken to her parents?" Jo inquired.

"Not yet," Mrs. Garrett sighed. "I thought I'd talk to you first. When you get here, we can call her parents together if we think that's best."

"They'll try to yank her out of Langley and find her a shrink in the City," Jo speculated.

"Therapy wouldn't be a bad idea," Mrs. Garrett acknowledged. "Meanwhile, I want her to see her friends. I've asked Natalie to come home this weekend, as well. She has some experience with this."

"Yeah, I remember," Jo said. "Okay. I'll be up tomorrow. Thanks for being there for her, Mrs. G." She hung up the phone.

"So, is it Blair?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, Ma. She's remembering the attack and I guess she's kinda' traumatized."

"Oh," Rose shook her head. "Such a terrible thing that happened to her."

"I'm leaving tomorrow to go take care of her."

"Of course," Rose nodded. "I think you should."

"Really, Ma?" Jo was suspicious.

"Really," Rose affirmed. "I've known quite a few of women beaten by men for no good reason. I've seen what it does to them, the trauma it can cause. I never wanted for anything bad to happen to Blair, Jo. You must believe me."

"I do. Thanks, Ma."

"You drive safe up there, Jo!" Rose cautioned. "No speeding trying to get to Blair faster!"

"Okay, okay," Jo headed to her bedroom.

"And Jo?"

"Yeah, Ma?"

"Give Blair my love."

Jo's smile lit up the room. She crossed over to her mother and hugged her.

"Thanks, Mom."

* * *

After exchanging pleasantries with Mrs. G., Jo headed up to her room. She opened the door to find Blair sitting by the window, gazing out vacantly.

"Jo!" Blair called out as she turned to see who had opened the door.

"Surprise!"

Blair was stunned. "I, uh, didn't expect you 'til next weekend!" she finally managed.

Jo walked over to her and placed her hand on her shoulder. "What's up, Blondie?"

"Oh, Jo…" Blair grabbed her and buried her face into her body. "I got so scared," she began to cry softly. "I thought I was okay, but I wasn't!"

"It's okay," Jo held her tight. "I'm here now."

"Will you hold me tonight… just hold me?"

"All night long, Blair, whatever you need."

There was a knock on the door in the morning. Natalie didn't wait for a reply as she popped her head in.

"Is everybody decent?" she held her hand over her eyes as she called in.

"Oh my goodness!" Blair called out as she jumped up from the bed. "Natalie?"

"Hey, Blair," Natalie enfolded her in a hug.

"Hey, Nat," Jo yawned from the bed.

"What are you doing here?" Blair took both her hands and dragged her over to the bed to sit down.

"Mrs. Garrett called me. She thought you might need my help."

"With what?" Blair was truly confused.

"Blair," Natalie eyed her with concern, "you haven't been out of the house in four days!"

"I've just been studying," Blair looked away.

"Don't bullshit me," Nat cut to the chase. "You're not going out because you're afraid. I've been there, Blair, remember?"

"That was different," Blair would not meet her gaze.

"No it wasn't!" Natalie grabbed Blair's hands, demanding that she look at her. Blair looked up. "Mine may have been an attempted rape, yours a gay bashing, but we both had our sense of security and well-being threatened! I've been there."

"Listen to her," Jo propped herself up on the bed pillows.

"You have to face your fears, Blair," Natalie continued. "You have to realize that this attack doesn't define you. You are still Blair Warner: friend, lover, heiress!"

"Don't forget brat, Nat," Jo yawned again. "Because Blair can be an incredible pain in the ass."

Blair punched Jo in the arm.

"You guys go ahead and shower. I'll be downstairs waiting," Natalie kissed Blair's cheek.

Blair was very surprised at what was waiting for her downstairs. Chris, Gary, Natalie and Tootie were sharing breakfast. A voice suddenly boomed throughout the room: "Oh, Mrs. Garrett! I never knew such culinary delights were possible in such a far flung outpost of civilization!" Antwoine gushed as he walked through the kitchen door into the dining room. He stopped, abruptly, when he saw Blair.

"Antwoine?" Blair asked, totally shocked to see him there.

"When I heard you were having a rough time, I called for some back-up," Jo explained as she threw her arm around her shoulder.

"This looks like an intervention," Blair turned to Jo with a questioning look in her eyes.

"Oh, nothing of the kind," Mrs. Garrett linked her arm in Blair's and led her to the table. "We are all just very concerned about you and want to have a talk."

Blair sat down uneasily.

"Blair," Natalie began, "what happened to you was wrong, very wrong. You need to deal with your feelings around this."

"I got beat up, Nat. I remember it now…" Blair's voice trailed off.

"You cannot let it conquer you're being," Natalie was adamant. "You have to face your fears!"

"We're going to face those fears together," Antwoine squeezed her hand.

"I'm assuming," Blair started uncertainly, "that this will involve me walking the streets of Peekskill."

"We're going to help you set up the duplex!" Tootie offered brightly.

"And then?" Blair asked.

"Listen, Blair," Jo was direct. "We have to go visit where it all happened to get you through this!"

"Oh," Blair turned to Jo angrily, "and you have it from which psychology book that this will make me better?"

"From mine," Natalie stated assuredly.

"And mine," Antwoine squeezed her hand again.

"My options are?" Blair questioned.

Mrs. Garrett and Jo eyed each other. "Jo and I can call your parents," Mrs. G. reported sadly.

"Get you into therapy," Jo smiled at her weakly.

"Seems I have no choice, then," Blair objected. She glared at Jo angrily. "This was an intervention after all!"

* * *

Blair actually enjoyed being at the duplex with so much company. Everyone, but Antwoine, was wrong about where the furniture belonged. Every time a piece of furniture was misdirected, Antwoine corrected.

"Blair," Jo was excited; "I can't believe you got a T.V. for upstairs and downstairs! Will we have cable?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Blair was still upset with her. "Of course we will! Do you think I could manage with the three channels available in Peekskill without it?"

Jo shrugged. "It was just a question, Blair."

"I insist on living in the manner to which I'm accustomed," Blair replied. "Got a problem with it?"

"What if I do?" They stood face-to-face.

"Ladies," Antwoine intervened. "No need for this now."

"Calm down, girls," Mrs. Garrett came between them. "Let's take a deep breath."

"Tell her that, Mrs. G.," Jo spat out defensively. "Ya' try to help her and what do get? A whole lot of resentment!"

"You spring an intervention on me and call it help?"

"You know what, Blair? You should've been in therapy years ago to fix that spoiled, rotten brat, princess attitude of yours!"

"Ha!" Blair fired back. "Years of therapy couldn't fix your deranged obsession with living a destitute life! Help? You wouldn't accept help from Mother Theresa!"

"Oh! So now you're Mother Theresa? More like Princess Di!"

"A true humanitarian who only tries to help those in need!"

"Jo, Blair, stop this!" Mrs. Garrett bellowed. "You two love each other. Stop now before you say something you can't take back!" She pulled Jo to the side and gave her a knowing glance. "Jo?" she placed a hand on her arm and inclined her head slightly towards Blair. "Don't forget why we're here."

"Right," Jo gazed at Blair and suddenly felt extremely guilty for launching into her at such a vulnerable moment. She shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I'll let it go."

"It was just like old times for a minute there!" Natalie beamed brightly.

"Shut up, Natalie!" both Blair and Jo turned on her.

"Geez!" Natalie shrugged. "Are you two _both_ on the rag, or what?"

Jo and Blair shot each other a knowing look.

"Girls!" Mrs. Garrett upbraided them. "Stop this now! We are here to help Blair. Fighting just won't do!"

"I think this place is looking good, Blair," Antwoine changed the subject. "Such a lovely apartment!"

"Thanks, Antwoine," Blair walked over to him. "Nice to know I have at least _one_ true friend."

"You need to check yourself," he whispered to her. "These folks love you."

"It's time we get down to business," Jo turned to her. "We have to go the scene of the crime."

"More of my therapy, I'm sure!" Blair had never felt so out of control of a situation. How could it be that Jo would turn on her like this? How could it be that all her closest friends wanted her to revisit a place that had caused her so much fear and pain? She breathed deeply and took a moment to reflect. A steady hand was suddenly placed upon her elbow.

"Blair," Mrs. Garrett said reassuringly, "if you don't want to do this, we can just go home."

Blair gathered herself. "No, Mrs. Garrett, they're right. I have to face my fears."

"That's my girl," Edna hugged her.

They walked as a group down to the bar where Blair had been so grievously injured. She walked ahead with Mrs. Garrett and Antwoine. Jo walked behind with the others. When they reached the spot where Blair had been beaten, she gasped and looked back to Jo.

"Look, Jo!"

Jo came running forward.

"Look at the sidewalk!"

Jo bent down and noticed two jagged edges.

"You're scars."

"My scars," Blair repeated as she ran her fingers over the uneven, sharp corners of the broken sidewalk. "My blood is still here."

Jo looked closer. It was true. Dark shades of red still stained the rough edges.

"It happened right here," Chris trembled.

Gary placed his hand on her back. "It was surreal," he shook his head.

"I say fuck these Mother Fucking bitches ain't got nothing better to do on a Saturday night than roam around their hick town looking for someone to bash with a baseball bat!" Antwoine bobbed his head defiantly. "What do you say, Blair?"

For the first time since she had been back in Peekskill, Blair laughed. "Fuck them!" she smiled at him.

"You can do better than that," Antwoine egged her on.

Blair stood upon the place where she had been beaten. "Fuck you!" she shouted to the sky. "Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!"

People stopped in their tracks on the street and stared at her.

"That's my girl!" Antwoine stated proudly as he threw his arm around Mrs. Garrett.

"Oh my," was Edna's response.

Blair smiled proudly at Jo, Natalie and Tootie.

"Are you all right?" Jo questioned.

"I'm better than all right," Blair smiled at them. "I'm Blair Warner!" she yelled, "and look out, Peekskill, because I'm back!"

A police car pulled up and a cop exited. He walked towards them. He stopped in front of Antwoine.

"Is there a problem here, officer?" Antwoine asked respectfully.

"You tell me," the officer eyed him up and down. "Got a call that people were yelling obscenities on the street. Know anything about that?"

"Me?" Antwoine looked around innocently.

"Ross," Gary came forward. "How's the wife and kids?"

"Gary?" the officer was surprised to see him.

"There's no problem here, Ross" Gary continued. "This young woman," he put his hand on Blair's shoulder, "is the one who got beat up here last spring. We just came down to get some closure on that."

"Well, okay then," Ross eyed Antwoine suspiciously. "Just keep it down, okay?"

"No problem," Gary shook his hand.

Blair suddenly recovered herself, remembering that she was still irate at Jo over the intervention.

"Could this get more embarrassing?" she gave a scolding look to Jo as the patrol car pulled away. "I'm out here yelling on the street because of you! I thought for a moment that we were going to get to see the inside of Peekskill's jail again!"

"Hey," Jo said defensively, "no one made you yell on the street!"

"Well, um," Antwoine looked at Jo, "I actually kind of did." Turning to Blair he said: "And it was my black ass that was going to see the inside of Peekskill's jail, not yours."

"Sorry about that, Antwoine," Blair apologized.

"Yeah, sorry," Jo chimed in.

"Oh, no need for apologies," Antwoine waved them off amiably. "Between being black and being gay, I am _so_ over police with attitude. Been there, done that, too many times. But no reason for you two to apologize. Say, speaking of gay and attitude, I could be mistaken but I'm thinking this is a gay bar we're standing in front of?"

"The one and only in Peekskill," Chris affirmed.

"Well, as my boyfriend would say… _is time for drink!"_

"Right there with you, Antwoine!" Natalie agreed.

"Nat," Tootie grabbed her elbow. "They raised the drinking age to twenty-one last year in New York State!"

"Just be cool, Tootie," Natalie winked at her. "Don't act like your under-age and we'll be okay."

"Well, this will be my first time in a gay bar," Mrs. Garrett eyes grew wide as she smiled. "But long overdue."

* * *

Blair danced with Antwoine. Blair danced with Chris, Blair danced with Gary. Blair _did not_ dance with Jo.

Jo sat at a barroom table looking sad. "Why is she so mad at me, Mrs. G.?" she complained. "She's not mad at anyone else."

"Just let her calm down, Jo. You've done her a great service, making her face her fears. Sometimes it's not easy being in a loving relationship. Sometimes you have to be strong for the other. You did that today."

"I called her names," Jo dropped her head so it almost hit her beer mug.

"Don't beat yourself up, Jo. You and Blair have always had a volatile relationship. There will be ups and downs. The good you did today far outweighs the bad. She'll see that."

Blair stood at the jukebox, pondering which tune to play next. Chris joined her.

"How long are you going to punish Jo?" she asked.

"I'm not punishing her, Chris. Whatever do you mean?"

"Look at her Blair! We're all dancing and laughing and she's over there at the table looking like a wounded puppy."

"She should've talked to me. She shouldn't have ambushed me. She shouldn't have assumed what I needed."

"But you _did_ need this, Blair. She did the right thing bringing us all together to help you. Can't you see that?"

"She still should've talked to me first, Chris. I expect her to be open and honest with me, always!"

"Look at her sitting there, Blair," Chris persisted. "She's miserable."

Blair looked over to where Jo sat with Mrs. Garrett. Her head was hung low as her hands grasped her beer mug. Her shoulders were slouched, her legs apart except for her feet, which were pointed towards each other in a pigeon-toed fashion.

"She always sits like that," Blair turned back to the jukebox.

"Meanwhile, this _is_ a gay bar, Blair. That woman at the end of the bar has been checking Jo out all night."

Blair glanced at the woman in question. "Ha!" she laughed. "That woman couldn't take a chicken sandwich away from me, much less my girlfriend!"

"I don't get your attitude," Chris complained.

"It's just that Jo is so stubborn. Why does everything always have to be her way!"

"Jo's stubborn?" Chris was amazed. "Blair Warner, you're being completely unreasonable," she scolded her. "Your girl is hurting because of you. I can't believe you're not going to do anything about this!"

"She's right, baby girl," Antwoine leaned against the jukebox. "This can't go on."

Blair gazed back over to Jo before dropping money into the jukebox. She punched out the numbers. "You two are assholes."

 _Time After Time_ by Cyndi Lauper began to play. Jo suddenly saw a pair of very expensive shoes planted in front of her. She'd recognize those feet anywhere.

"So, are you going to sit here all night sulking, or are you going to dance with me?"

Jo looked up. Blair held out her hand as she pushed against her cheek with her tongue, trying not to smile. Jo's smile was electric as she took Blair's hand. Blair could not resist it, as her own megawatt smile appeared.

"This is our song, I think," Blair sighed as they fell into each other's arms and swayed softly.

"It is now, I guess," Jo agreed. "It's okay. I like it."

" _If you're lost you can look and you will find me,"_ Blair sang along, _"time after time."_

" _If you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting,"_ Jo joined in, _"time after time."_

"I'm sorry we argued," Blair apologized.

"Me too, Babe," Jo held her tight.

"I _am_ a spoiled brat princess, you know," Blair breathed into her ear.

"I know. Why do you think I call you that?" They both laughed.

"You're kind of a brat, too," Blair informed. "Just not of the princess variety."

"Yeah? What variety of brat am I?"

"The cupcake tit variety," Blair teased.

Jo had to laugh despite herself.

"I guess I deserve that. And I guess I _am_ a little bratty when it comes to money."

"A little? Sweetheart, you're borderline deranged."

"That's why you love me, right?" Jo rested her forehead on Blair's.

"That's one of the reasons I love you. There are a couple more."

"Such as?" Jo inquired.

"Let me think," Blair teased. "Oh yeah: you've got a great ass and I love how you fuck me."

"Good to know. I aim to please. You know, you're getting quite comfortable with that word lately, Blair!" Jo grinned. "That's going to take some getting used to!"

"Don't worry. I've got way too much Princess Di in me to use it often."

"Oh, I've got the feeling she cuts loose with it on occasion, Blair."

"Yes. But with an upper-class British accent that makes it sound positively dignified, I'm sure!" They both smiled.

"So," Jo ventured. "What else are we going to do tonight?"

"I don't know. Go back to Mrs. Garrett's, I guess."

"You don't want to stay in our new place?"

"Goodness, no. All my stuff is at Mrs. G.'s. There's no bedding or shampoo at our place. It would be like camping."

"Heaven forbid!" Jo teased her.

"I want our place to be perfect when we spend our first night there," Blair kissed her gently. "Don't you?"

"I guess you're right," Jo acknowledged.

"Jo?"

"Blair?"

"Thanks for doing this today. I'm sorry I got so mad. It's just that I don't like to appear weak in front of others. It's hard enough for me to open up to you about my fears and vulnerabilities, let alone a crowd."

"They are your good friends, Blair. They love you."

"All the same, I'm just not comfortable with it. But, I _do_ feel better."

"Then it was all worth it. I'm sorry it was so hard for you."

"This whole thing that happened to me," Blair sighed. "It's been like a puzzle with missing pieces. Today the pieces were put into place, the picture's complete. I can start really dealing with it now."

"That's good to know, Blair."

"I think I might get into therapy for a while, just to see how I like it."

"I'll support whatever you want to do."

"Thanks for everything. Jo."

"Don't mention it."

They held close to each other as they danced, resting their heads on each other's shoulder. They didn't notice that they were the only two on the dance floor. It was apparent to all who saw them, that here were two women deeply in love.

The woman at the end of the bar turned away and shook her head.

"There are other fish in the sea," the bartender comforted as he patted her hand.

"Mrs. Garrett?" Natalie said as she eyed them and smiled sweetly. "If I ever get as full of drama queen crap as those two? Promise me you'll just shoot me."


	10. Some Inherent Problems with Cohabitating

Blair had worked all week after her finals were made up on setting up the apartment for Jo's return. She had framed Jo's posters of Bruce Springsteen and Joan Jett and hung them on the living room wall. She placed elegant throw pillows on the couch and placed coasters on the coffee table. She had bought dishes, flatware and pots and pans and arranged them all in the kitchen. She had stocked the refrigerator with beer, wine, salami and cheese. She had made the bed with tasteful Egyptian cotton sheets with a high thread count. The towels in the bathroom were equally soft. Everything was color matched. Her heart jumped when she heard the roar of Jo's motorcycle enter the driveway.

"Welcome home!" She threw open the door to greet her.

Jo removed her helmet slowly, crossed over to the dining room and placed it on the table.

"Long trip, Blair," she sighed. "Lots of traffic."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Blair kissed her cheek. "So, what do you think?"

"Looks great, Babe," Jo smiled at her as she checked the refrigerator for a beer. "I'm tired. Mind if I take a load off?"

"Not al all," Blair picked up her helmet and moved it to a stand next to the door.

"Hey," Jo looked at her quizzically. "What was that?"

"I set up this stand near the door for your helmet."

"You did?"

"Um, yeah. Is that okay?"

"Sure," Jo shrugged as she sunk into the couch with her beer and propped her boots up on the coffee table. She smiled up at Blair. "The fire's nice."

"Jo?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you take your feet off the table?"

"Aw, c'mon. I've been riding for three hours for what should be a one hour trip and I can't relax a little?"

Blair bit her lower lip. "I guess. I just don't like feet up on the coffee table. The couch reclines back, you know."

"I can't believe you're going to start ragging on me about little things like where I put my helmet and where I put my feet when we've only been living together for like five minutes!"

Blair looked crestfallen. "But, Jo, I had a gourmet meal delivered. It's in the oven. I bought an excellent bottle of wine. I thought our first night together in our new place would be something special."

"I gotta' get my gear," Jo rose abruptly as she exited the house.

Blair felt herself beginning to tear up. _I'm not going to cry. Jo is just different than I am. I have to change my expectations if we're going to make this work._

Jo re-entered the apartment with a huge bouquet of red roses in one arm and a boxed dessert from a bakery in the other.

"I stopped on the way in and picked up a few things for our first night together," she grinned at Blair rakishly.

"Jo Polniaczek! I'm going to kill you!" Blair shouted.

"Aw, you didn't think I'd let our first night together in our new place be anything but special, did you?"

"You had me going," Blair admitted.

"It's payback for the time you acted like you didn't recognize me in the hospital."

"Good one, Jo," Blair shook her head in appreciation. "You got me!"

"I hope so," Jo laid the flowers and dessert on the table as she gathered Blair into her arms. "I love you, Blair."

"I love you, too, my precious barbarian."

"Barbarian, huh?" Jo kissed her sweetly.

"That's the best you can do?" Blair challenged as she moved in for a more engaged kiss.

"Oh, God, Babe," Jo sighed, "are you _really_ hungry or could we just move on to the main _after dinner_ course?"

"You want to break in the bedroom before the dining room?"

"I want to break in all the rooms… eventually," Jo eyed her. "But, I'm good with starting with the bedroom," she smiled playfully.

"Race you!" Blair bolted for the stairs.

Jo followed in hot pursuit.

* * *

The next few weeks were an adjustment period for the both of them. Although they did manage to _break in_ every room in the house, including the kitchen counter and dining room table, they also experienced moments of irritation.

"Blair, how much crap can one person collect on a bathroom sink?" and "What's all this junk on the living room floor, Jo?" were common refrains. Jo was also irritated by Blair's lack of ability to open a milk carton on the right side. "It's clearly marked, Blair! What's so hard about that?"

They both enjoyed waking up together. After years of sleeping in the same room in separate beds, pretending like there was nothing between them, it was nice to be able to cuddle in the morning in total privacy. Jo would shower first to allow Blair more sleep. She knew her girlfriend greatly enjoyed sleeping in. What she didn't know, was that Blair had been using the time to run downstairs and prepare Jo's lunch.

Jo did most of the cooking, but only because she couldn't stand Blair's lack of culinary skills. To Blair, every home cooked meal had to have an exotic element, which usually had something to do with garlic and anchovies. She didn't let on to Blair that she didn't like her cooking. She just managed to do most of it herself to avoid hurting her feelings. Unfortunately, Blair had gotten into the habit of preparing a bagged lunch for Jo: cream cheese on seed bread with tuna mixed with _way_ too much mayonnaise. There was also something crunchy, which Jo couldn't quite identify. It was disgusting. Jo took the lunch with her every morning, not wanting to rebuff such a sweet and loving gesture on Blair's part, but would deposit it in the nearest trashcan as soon as she was on campus. _Couldn't she mix it up just once? Like peanut butter and jelly or something? Just once?_ Jo usually had a back-up meal of leftovers to tide her over.

Other than these few minor hitches, things were going rather smoothly until one fateful day in September… when Jo left the front door open.

"Oh my God!" Blair screamed and jumped behind her.

"What is it?" Jo stood in front of her protectively.

"There's a giant moth in here!" Blair hid behind her, holding onto her hips.

"A moth, Blair? Seriously?"

"I don't like them."

"Fine," Jo disengaged herself and rolled up a newspaper. She was about to swat it, when Blair called out again.

"Stop!"

"Look, Blair, either you want me to kill it, or you don't. Make up your mind!"

"Jo, look at its wings!"

Jo looked at its wings. "So?"

"You see the two spots?"

"Yeah," Jo drew out slowly.

"That's to scare off predators. Its wings mimic eyes to scare off predators."

"So?"

"So, if that's all it's got to defend itself, it would be wrong to just splat it across the wall!"

"I'm not following," Jo turned to her perplexed.

"Just because I don't like moths is not a good to reason to destroy it. It has its own beauty, I guess, fulfills its purpose. I would be a hypocrite to have you bash it for no good reason. It doesn't make sense. It's not right."

Jo thought this over. Blair was bashed for no good reason aside from the fact that someone didn't like her or what she represented. It _didn't_ make sense. There was no good reason. She wondered if this had to do with what had happened to her.

"Is this about _you_ getting bashed?" she asked directly.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Blair gave her an annoyed look. "I can defend myself. This poor creature cannot."

"So, what do you want me to do, Blair?"

"Catch it? Set it free outside?"

"I can do that," Jo nodded. She captured the moth in a water glass and released it.

There was a nip in the early autumn air as they bundled up outside on the deck and sipped hot chocolate.

"The moth thing _was_ about you getting bashed," Jo observed.

"Maybe," Blair relented. "The trial is coming up."

"I know," Jo said calmly.

"The D.A. is still not sure if he wants me to testify."

"What's his problem?"

"He thinks he's got enough with Chris and Gary's testimony. He's worried I might become too emotional on the stand."

"What does your therapist think?"

"She just lets me talk. Like a mirror, kind of."

"Expensive mirror. Maybe I should get into that racket," Jo mused.

"It's not a racket, Jo. She's helping me sort out my feelings, showing me how I really feel. I actually like being in therapy. It's an interesting process. Plus, Carolyn is super cool."

"She is, huh?"

"Don't be jealous, Jo," she snuggled up to her. "She's helping me, is all."

"Well, if she's helping you, that's good enough for me."

Blair was silent for a moment. "I want to testify, Jo. It's important to me to face them in court."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. I want them to have to look at me, see the person they hurt."

"Whatever you decide, I'll be right there with you."

* * *

As the time for the trial drew near, Blair became more and more agitated. Jo decided to invite Natalie, Tootie and Mrs. Garrett over for dinner to help distract her.

"Oh, I'll cook!" Blair was excited.

"Um… I can cook," Jo suggested. "I want you to relax."

"Cooking _does_ relax me, Jo! I'll make pasta!"

"Pasta's good," Jo was hesitant. "What kind of pasta?"

"Big noodles with sauce and something special."

"Something special?"

"Like garlic, tuna and anchovies!"

Jo couldn't take it anymore. "Blair! There's more to cooking than garlic, anchovies, cream cheese and tuna!"

Blair was taken aback. "What are you saying, Jo? That you don't like my cooking?"

"If you can call it that," Jo mumbled under her breath as she shook her head.

"I heard that!" Blair was offended. "I make you sandwiches everyday. You love my sandwiches!"

"I hate your sandwiches. Blair. I only take them because I don't want to hurt your feelings!"

"Well, you're doing a great job of that!"

"Look, I'm sorry. Ya' just can't cook, Blair, and it's time you knew it."

"So everyday that I've been up early making you lunch, you've been, what? Throwing it out?"

"Blair… what _is_ the crunch in those sandwiches?"

"Chopped parsnips… very healthy."

"Parsnips?" Jo threw her hand in front of her mouth and gagged. "You've been feeding me parsnips?"

"What's wrong with parsnips? They're like carrots only more exotic. Martha Stewart uses them!"

"Yeah, well, Martha Stewart knows how to cook!"

"Meaning I don't!"

"If you're so in love with Martha Stewart's cookbooks, why don't you try a recipe from one of them instead of improvising?"

"I want to be a creative cook, Jo! How can I do that if I only follow recipes?"

"Look, Blair, recipes are written down so folks can follow them. Cooking is as much a science as it is an art. Just try following a recipe for once, will you?"

"I _am_ an artist!" Blair declared.

"Not in the kitchen," Jo retorted. "There are people who can improvise there and people who cannot. You just happen to fall into the latter category."

"Why are you being so insulting? I am a _very_ creative cook!"

"Creative doesn't always mean good, Blair. I could shit on a canvas and call it art, but I don't! You put parsnips in my sandwiches, for crying out loud!"

"You're saying my cooking is shit?"

"I've had it with this!" Jo grabbed her helmet in exasperation. "I'm going to be late for class!"

* * *

Blair sat in the university quad eating a cream cheese with tuna and parsnips sandwich.

"She called me a bad cook, Chris," she lamented to her friend. "I make her a lunch everyday and she calls me a bad cook! She basically said my cooking was shit!"

"That's harsh, Blair."

"I am _not_ a bad cook! I'm a creative cook! Taste this!" Blair handed her the other half of her sandwich.

Chris took a bite. "Blair?" she looked at her intently. "You're a bad cook."

"Really, Chris?" Blair eyed her quizzically.

"You're a little heavy on the mayo, Blair!"

"But that's how you mix tuna," Blair defended herself, "with mayo! I learned that from Mrs. Garrett back at Eastland."

"I'm pretty sure Edna didn't put this much mayonnaise into her tuna salad," Chris observed.

"I think it tastes good. Maybe I'm taste bud challenged, or something."

"Or you just have exotic tastes in food, let's try to bright-side this!"

"Meanwhile, I don't like the word, _shit,_ being hurled at me."

"I don't blame you there," Chris agreed. "Jo owes you an apology.

"Thanks, Chris."

Chris cleared her throat nervously. "Listen, Blair, I've been thinking. So long as you're out now, I mean living with Jo and everything, I was really hoping you'd join the Gay Student Union."

"Huh?"

"You know, become politically active!"

"Oh," Blair pondered this for a moment. "I would love to, really Chris. But the whole student activism thing is kind of Jo's. I don't want to take things from her or insinuate myself into things where she's established herself. I want to respect her space, her autonomy."

"But activism means that everyone is involved!" Chris pressed.

"Let me talk to Jo about it first."

"Jesus, Blair, you're whipped," Chris shook her head.

"First of all, that's kind of a sexist statement, isn't it? I mean if whipped is short for what I think it's short for."

"I didn't say pussy-whipped, Blair. But it may be sexist anyway, you're right," Chris nodded.

"Second of all, I'm _not_ whipped! I'm just looking out for Jo's well being. I want her to have her own things and be happy. I don't want to step on her toes."

"I just want you to be politically active, Blair. I think you have a lot to offer."

"Okay," Blair rolled her eyes extravagantly. "Let me check with Jo."

"Whipped," Chris coughed into her fist.

"I heard that," Blair elbowed her as they exchanged a grin.

* * *

Jo couldn't focus on her classes all day. She sat on a rock overlooking a campus stream. How could she have been so cruel to Blair? The look of hurt in her eyes when she said she didn't like her horrible sandwiches stayed with her. _I could've been kinder. Offered to help her learn to cook._ Nah. That would have pissed Blair off even more. How was it that Blair could push all her buttons so effortlessly?

Jo threw a rock into the stream and sighed heavily. She thought of all the things she loved about Blair. She could be so damn kind. She made sure she got a scholarship so she could stay at Eastland. She helped finance the Bronx Outreach Center. She made her lunch everyday. Yet, she was feisty as hell. Blair had never backed down from her, not even back when they first met and Jo's anger could scare people. _She gave as good as she got,_ Jo smiled to herself. Blair was brave and loyal. If she said she had your back, she had it all the way. She was fun and adventurous and beautiful. Jo loved being with her. She actually loved just the thought of being with her. She would catch herself daydreaming of Blair often. When they were together, she would look over at her in wonder sometimes. Every place they went seemed special because Blair was with her. What did it matter if she couldn't cook?

She turned and walked through the trees until she was back near the campus center. She stopped when she saw a golden vision. Blair was under the campus clock tower, her hair lit by the autumn sun as the breeze lifted it. She was chatting with two other students, her books pressed to her chest. She laughed; she rolled her eyes and shook her head charmingly as she smiled her movie star smile. God, she was beautiful. As she nodded goodbye to the two other students, Jo approached her.

The leaves had turned. The campus was filled with color. Blair loved this time of year. It was hard to choose between summer and autumn, but if she had to, she would probably choose autumn. There was a certain slant of light this time of year. The sun had moved to reflect the world in a different aspect. There was a nip of coolness in the air. Blair loved these things. She noticed a butterfly. How unusual: a butterfly… at this time of year?

She was suddenly jerked to the side as a bike whizzed by.

"Blair!" Jo grasped her shoulders. "Watch out!"

"Oh, Jo!" Blair was surprised.

"That bicycle almost ran you down! What were you thinking?"

"I was watching a butterfly."

"Jesus, Blair!"

"Are you all right?" the young man on the bicycle approached them. "I'm so sorry. I came around the clock tower too fast, didn't see you."

"I'm fine," Blair smiled charmingly.

"Maybe I could take you out for a bite, just to make sure," he returned her smile.

"She's fine," Jo moved close to Blair and gave him a threatening glare.

"Well, okay then," he looked at Jo nervously as he got back on his bike and rode away.

"I almost forgot," Blair turned away from Jo. "I'm not speaking to you!"

"Aw, geez, Blair," Jo complained plaintively. "I'm sorry."

"Really?" Blair turned to Jo with an enormous smile.

"Yeah," Jo looked down, ashamed. "I never should've said I hate your sandwiches."

"That's right!" Blair stated. "And...?"

"And…" as Jo opened her mouth to speak, the clock tower began to chime. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets as her backpack straps slid down her arms. Blair replaced Jo's backpack straps onto her shoulders. She left her hands hooked through the straps. She and Jo gazed at each other as they listened to the bells chime. Their heads moved slowly towards each other unconsciously… until their lips met. They kissed under the clock tower in the campus square as many colored leaves flew around their feet, oblivious to the world.

"I forgive you," Blair rested her forehead on Jo's.

"Really?" Jo looked into her eyes hopefully.

"Really," Blair looped her arm in Jo's and led her to a bench.

"So," Blair seemed positively giddy. "You kissed me in public!"

"No I didn't. You kissed _me_ in public!"

"The world didn't end," Blair teased.

"I'm just not a big fan of public displays of affection, you know that. I'm not really comfortable with it. I don't like watching straight couples do it either."

"I know, Jo. I just can't help myself sometimes."

"So… I'm glad you're still not mad at me about the sandwich thing. I _am_ sorry."

"Oh, let's not worry about that," Blair started fishing around in her oversized handbag. "I brought you another one!" She pulled out a sandwich.

"Blair!"

"Don't worry," Blair laughed, "it's peanut butter and jelly."

She handed it to Jo, who eyed it suspiciously before taking a bite. "It _is_ PB &J! Thanks, Blair," she nudged her.

"You ran out without your lunch this morning. I was worried you might get hungry."

Jo shook her head and grinned. "I _was_ hungry. You're so good to me, Blair. Especially after how I yelled at you this morning."

"Maybe I _could_ use some cooking lessons," Blair conceded. "Will you teach me?"

"Sure," Jo continued as she ate her sandwich. "You wanted to do pasta? We could start with something simple, like spaghetti. We can do it tonight, if you like."

"That would be great, Jo," Blair laid her head on her shoulder.

* * *

"So do you always use marinara sauce from a jar, Jo?" Blair questioned as she eyed the ingredients for spaghetti.

"No. I can make fresh marinara sauce, but that's lesson two in Spaghetti 101. Tonight we're focusing on the meatballs, okay?"

"Um, okay," Blair shrugged pleasantly.

"You'll be happy to know that you get to put garlic into the meatballs!"

"I like garlic," Blair affirmed.

"I know," Jo grinned ironically as she gathered the ingredients for Blair. She instructed her on how much onion, garlic, spices and breadcrumbs to add to the ground beef. "We're going to use a couple eggs and parmesan as binders," Jo informed. "You have to mix it all together with your hands."

"What? Eew, Jo!"

"Hey! You want to learn to cook, you're going to have get your hands dirty!"

Blair made a face as she began mixing the ingredients. "This is disgusting!"

"This is cooking, Blair!" Jo smiled proudly. "Next we get to roll them up. That's really fun!"

"Oh joy," Blair gave her a queasy look. Jo instructed her on proper meatball rolling as they shared the task.

"I saw a butterfly today," Blair mentioned.

"I know, it almost got you creamed by a bike," Jo smirked.

"Jo, why do you think we like butterflies and not moths?"

"Speak for yourself, Blair. I like moths."

"No… seriously? When you see a moth flitting about, you hope it lands on you?"

"Well, I can't say that," Jo had to admit.

"But when you see a butterfly, don't you kind of hope it lands on you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"So? What's the difference?"

"I dunno'," Jo pondered. "Because one is beautiful and the other just a dull brown thing flitting irritatingly around a light?"

"Moths are nocturnal, yet attracted to the light. Butterflies spend their lives in the sunshine."

"I feel an amazing insight is about to be imparted to me," Jo exhaled and smiled at her as she rolled another meatball.

"It's just that gay people are the same as straight, only viewed differently. Straights are invited to every party to bask in the sun. Gays seek the light the same way, but are relegated to the dark."

"Seriously, Blair? Antwoine and Viktor are beautiful butterflies out in the light of day."

"That's the thing… gay people are as beautiful as straights. Yet we're relegated to the shadows, seeking light where we can find it."

"Um… okay. But some moths are diurnal."

"And some butterflies are crepuscular, meaning they fly at dawn and dusk."

"Ah, shit, Blair," Jo complained. "Have you been researching again? Because I know that word _crepuscular_ didn't just fly out of your ass like you knew it the whole time!"

Blair planted her tongue in the side of her mouth, pushing out her cheek. She rolled a meatball.

"You've been fixating on this metaphor since I released that moth last week, haven't you?" Jo asked.

"Maybe," Blair shrugged nonchalantly.

"Listen, Blair, just for the record: I think whether one is diurnal, nocturnal or crepuscular, doesn't matter. We all have to live and let live."

"But I think everyone should have a chance to be a butterfly!"

"Meaning straight… or beautiful?" Jo eyed her skeptically.

"Meaning beautiful, of course!" Blair replied offended.

"Yeah, well, some folks are just nocturnal, attracted to the night lights. It's just as valid and just as beautiful."

"And the crepuscular?" Blair lifted an eyebrow.

"They're on their own."

They both laughed until Blair mused a space.

"Um, Jo?"

"Um, what?"

"To make my moth/butterfly metaphor truly correct, we have to include the crepuscular. No one can be excluded or the life of the moth with wing eyes that we released is meaningless!"

"Okay, so I never thought I'd hear myself asking this," Jo sighed, "but why is the moth's life meaningless?"

"Because we only spared it for its external physical attributes, not it's nature. We just can't make those distinctions. The crepuscular have to be included, as well."

"If I agree to this, can the winged insect metaphor be over?"

Blair bit her lower lip. "I'm not sure, but I think so."

"In that case, I agree: the crepuscular are included in our circle of, um… I'm not sure what we're talking about anymore," Jo admitted.

"Inclusion," Blair reminded.

"Right!" Jo perked up. "I want everyone included: all insects, all humans, all weird-ass metaphors about winged insects and humans… we're all included!" She looked at Blair and smiled. "Good enough?"

"Speaking of inclusion," Blair worked a meatball over between her hands as she eyed Jo nervously. "Chris thinks I should join the Gay Student Union. I told her I'd have to check with you first."

"Why would you have to check with me? You don't need my permission."

"She thinks I have a lot to offer," Blair began another meatball.

"I agree with Chris, Blair. You _do_ have a lot to offer!"

"So, you wouldn't think I was trying to horn in on your territory? I mean, we did discuss having our different things. I don't want to invade your space."

"The Gay Student Union is not my space, Blair. The more voices, the better. We need more people involved, not less."

"Okay. I wanted to make sure, is all. I wouldn't want you to think I was stalking you or anything."

"Blair, if you went out for field hockey or started showing up at my pick-up basketball games ready to play… I'd _know_ you were stalking me."

"I don't think we have to worry about that. We both know I'm not into balls! I can barely stand rolling these meatballs!"

"Good to know," Jo laughed quietly. "You're doing a great job, by the way. So, is Chris asking you to join the Gay Student Union what promoted the conversation about giving meaning to the life of butterflies?"

"Giving the moth's life meaning, Jo. The butterfly already had purpose."

"No it didn't."

"Yes it did. Weren't you following?"

"I was trying to, Babe," Jo shook her head. "Well, hey! The meatballs are done," she announced. "Now we get to cook them!"

"Thank God," Blair made her way quickly to the sink to wash her hands.

* * *

Jo returned home from the library the next evening to find Blair sitting on the front deck, wrapped in a blanket, sipping a glass of wine and looking dejected.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she scooted in beside her.

"The D.A. called today," Blair pouted. "They've struck a plea agreement."

"What?"

"Yeah. I wanted them to have to go through a trial, but now they won't."

"What's the sentence?"

"Five years for the creep who hit me and two years with time served for the other two."

"Five years is a long time, Blair."

"He could've killed me. He should've gotten twenty-five!"

"Hey! I agree with you! Have you talked to your therapist about this?"

"Yes. I had a session today."

"What did she say?"

"She said I should submit a Victim's Impact Statement to the court if I want a harsher sentence. But… I don't know. After discussing it with her, I think I'll just leave it alone. I've spent enough time worrying about this. I don't want to give it any more energy. I just want it to go away."

"Are you sure?"

"A Victim's Impact Statement would have to include how what they did affected me: weeks of physical recovery, months of emotional recovery… I don't want to give those little shits the satisfaction. Fuck them!"

"There's that word again!"

"Appropriately used, I'm sure you'll agree."

"I can't argue with that. But, Blair, I don't think the perps get to read your Victim's Impact Statement."

"Perps?" Blair eyed her. "Is that another one of your police words?"

"I'm not going to be a cop, okay? You were right: why would I even go to college if I could've joined the force right out of Eastland? I just say that to irritate you."

"As I thought!" Blair glowered at her smugly.

"Don't start, Blair."

"Very well… but I'm still going to go for the sentencing. I want to smirk at them."

"Good for you, Blondie!"

* * *

Blair and Jo weren't the only ones at the sentencing. Mrs. Garrett, Natalie, Tootie, Chris, Gary, Antwoine, Victor, and her Mother and Father were all in court that day. To everyone's surprise, Boots St. Clair showed up, as well.

"Boots," Blair gave her hug, "I'm happy to see you! What made you decide to come?"

"I saw you in the hospital the day after, do you remember, Blair?"

"Yes, I remember."

"I simply could not believe your ghastly state! As a member of this community, it is my civic duty to watch these dogs brought to heel by the justice system!"

"Nice to know you care," Jo smirked.

"I _do_ care, Jo," Boots didn't skip a beat. "That's why I'm here."

"Sit with us," Blair gave Jo a look as her girlfriend rolled her eyes.

Blair was taken aback when the culprits were marched into the courtroom. She hadn't remembered how young they were. The oldest, the one who had bashed her, was no more than twenty-one. The other two were younger than that. The two youngest shuffled in looking ashamed and scared. The oldest glared at her, still defiant, as he was led to the defense table. Blair twisted her lip into a snarl as she glared back. Jo gripped her hand tightly, not sure if it was to steady Blair, or to control her own emotions, which were about to boil over. The lawyers went through their motions. It was now the judge's turn to speak.

"I am appalled at this crime: it's brutality, it's senselessness. I have to fight every instinct I have as a father and a member of this community to accept this plea. If any of you," he looked directly at the defendants, "ever come before me again, _do not_ expect such leniency. What you have done is mind-boggling in its viciousness. You attacked an innocent, defenseless young woman with a baseball bat and then proceeded to pummel her senseless. As if that weren't heinous enough, you then turned on her friends. I only hope that you take advantage of the time I'm about to sentence you to for self-reflection and self-improvement so that when you are released, you are no longer monsters in our midst, but truly reformed young men. Pray that you do not appear in my court again!"

He pronounced the agreed upon sentence. As they were being led out, the youngest one turned to Blair. He looked truly remorseful. "I'm sorry," he mouthed to her. Blair felt her eyes tear up as she squeezed Jo's hand. The door shut behind them and Blair felt herself exhale as a horrible chapter in her life closed with it.

"I like that judge!" David proclaimed loudly as the courtroom cleared. "I'm going to contribute heavily to his re-election campaign!"

"Judges are appointed in Peekskill, Daddy," Blair informed. "But, thanks anyway."

"Then I'll contribute to the campaign of whomever appointed him!"

"Quit trying to buy everyone," Monica rolled her eyes at David.

Antwoine slipped his arm into Blair's as they exited the courtroom.

"How you doing, baby girl?"

"I don't know, Antwoine. Did you see the look on that kid's face as they led him away? He looked so scared and truly remorseful."

"He may not have been the one who beat you, but he surely was a part of it. The sin of omission is a sin just the same!"

"I know," Blair leaned against him, "but, he mouthed, _"I'm sorry"_ to me. I feel like I have to know his story. What if it was peer pressure? Two years in prison is a horrible way to begin one's adult life."

"It is at that," he agreed. "I have a feeling you're going to do something about this."

"I'm going to contact his lawyer. Maybe, I can visit him in prison."

"Don't be thinking you can save him," Antwoine cautioned.

"Someone's got to try," Blair responded.

"I won't discourage you, but please be keep your expectations low."

"I won't expect too much," Blair agreed. "But I have to try."

"Now see… this is why I came here."

"I thought you came to support me!"

"I came to make sure my patient was completely healed," he eyed her imperiously. "Because when my patients are healed, I start learning the most amazing life lessons from them."

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing I could teach you about life, Antwoine."

"You already have, Blair," he kissed her forehead.

As Blair's friends and family walked out into a brisk October afternoon, David spoke up again. "Well, if I can't buy a judge in this town, the least I can do is buy everyone who came out to support my daughter dinner at the best restaurant in town!"

"I'm down," Tootie smiled.

"Sounds perfect!" Natalie chimed in as she eyed Gary.

"Oh, how lovely," Mrs. Garrett smiled.

"There is restaurant in hick town?" Viktor asked dryly.

Antwoine elbowed him. "We'd be delighted!"

Boots St. Clair was already half way down the street.

"Hey, Boots," Jo called after her. "Where you going?"

She turned and looked back at Jo.

"Blair's Dad is taking us out to dinner," Jo continued.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose," Boot's demurred.

"Get over here," Jo demanded.

As Boots joined the others, Blair slipped her hand into Jo's. "I love you, Polniaczek," she smiled.

"Back at ya', Blondie," Jo smiled back.

So it was that probably the oddest collection of people in the history of Peekskill descended on the only French Restaurant in town for dinner.

David ordered the finest champagne in the house. He rose, lifted his glass, and proposed a toast when it arrived.

"Here's to my daughter's good friends. I want to thank you all for supporting her. Jo, there are no words to express my gratitude for what you've done for Blair. You know I think the world of you. My daughter couldn't have chosen better!"

"Thanks, David," Jo was truly touched.

"Here's to Jo!" Mrs. Garrett raised her glass.

"To Jo!" everyone drank.

"Edna, Natalie, Tootie," David continued, "Blair's longtime friends: you've always been there for her. Thank you!"

Everyone drank.

"Christina, Gary," David went on, "thank you for trying to defend my daughter and being there for her in the aftermath!"

They all drank again.

"Antwoine," David wasn't finished, "you're skill and devotion to my daughter, not only as a nurse, but as a friend, truly hastened her recovery!"

"To Antwoine!" Viktor held his glass aloft.

Everyone drank.

"Boots," David turned to her, "well, Boots…"

"This menu's all in French," Boots complained as she looked up at him.

"To French menu!" Viktor drank again.

"David," Monica tugged at his sleeve. "Enough toasts. Sit down before we're all drunk."

"I merely sought to express my gratitude," he said in an aside to his ex-wife as he sat down.

"I think they get the picture," Monica rolled her eyes at him.

"I can help you with menu choices, Boots," Mrs. Garrett offered. "I studied cooking in Paris," she added proudly.

"Can you order for me?" Jo looked at the menu in bewilderment.

"You can order for me, too," Tootie set the menu down.

"I'm comfortable with that," Gary agreed as he set his menu down, as well.

"I think that's an excellent idea!" David boomed out amiably. "Edna, you're our French cuisine expert! Would you mind ordering for all of us?"

"Oh!" Mrs. Garrett was unsure. "That's a big responsibility! I'm hardly an expert!"

"I repose complete trust in you, Edna," Monica assured.

"Well," Edna looked around the table, "if everyone's alright with that…"

They all tossed their menus on the table.

"Go for it, Mrs. G!" Natalie beamed at her.

Mrs. Garrett ordered an assortment of food so that those who were unused to French cooking could pick and choose. Jo liked two items in particular.

"What are these, Blair?" she whispered as she polished off another bit of something yummy.

"The first one is snails, the second: frogs legs!" Blair informed her.

"Jesus, Blair!" Jo gagged. "Why did you let me eat that?"

"You have to try new things, Jo. How else will you know if you like it?"

"Yeah, but Blair, why do the French have to cook such slimy, filthy, disgusting things?"

"Here, try these," Blair placed a couple of items on Jo's plate.

"What is this? Snakes and puppy dog tails?" Jo eyed her plate suspiciously.

"Beef and vegetables," Blair smiled. "Nothing too gross."

"It was good to get closure today," Gary spoke up between bites.

"That's right! They hit you, too, didn't they?" Natalie leaned in close to him.

"I wanted them to get more jail time," Chris shook her head.

"In Russia, we shoot them," Viktor offered.

"Really?" Tootie was wide eyed.

"Yes, of course," Viktor shrugged. "In Russia they shoot gays, as well."

"So," Antwoine observed, "there's that."

"You know, Viktor," David began, "I'm very interested in hearing about your exploits in the Red Army."

"KGB," Viktor informed disinterestedly. "Could kill man with paperclip."

"Oh," David was not quite sure how to respond.

"Don't let him fool you, Mr. Warner," Antwoine advised. "Victor's in the cosmetics business now."

"Oh really?" David looked interested. "A good line?"

"The best," Viktor affirmed.

"I'm always looking for a good investment," David said.

"Not this, Daddy," Blair cut him off. "Uh-uh."

"Well, if you're sure, Princess."

"I'm sure," Blair nodded her head vigorously.

"There is problem with FDA," Viktor agreed.

"Why would the FDA be looking into a cosmetics line?" David queried.

"Exactly," Blair shook her head.

"Hey, Blair," Jo nudged her. "There's this lady over there who's been staring at you."

"Where?" Blair whipped her head around the restaurant quickly.

"You don't have to be so interested," Jo teased. "Over in the corner, near the potted palm."

"Oh my God, Jo, that's Carolyn, my therapist!" Blair smiled and waved.

A very attractive woman, with dark hair and huge green eyes, made her way over to their table.

"I wouldn't usually do this as it is a slight breach of professional ethics," she smiled as she placed her hand on the back of Blair's chair, "but it seems ridiculous not to greet each other. Besides, I have to know: how did it go today?"

"Everyone," Blair introduced her, "this is my therapist, Carolyn!"

"Hello," Carolyn smiled pleasantly.

"Carolyn," Blair rose and took her hand excitedly, "this is Jo!"

"Pleased to meet you," Carolyn shook her hand.

"Likewise," Jo was standoffish.

"And these are my parents," Blair introduced Monica and David.

"I'm so happy to meet you," Monica enthused. "I know Blair loves her sessions with you!"

"I am grateful to you for helping my daughter," David smiled pleasantly.

"So?" Carolyn looked at Blair who still hadn't released her hand.

"Oh, um, the um hearing," Blair stuttered.

 _She's stuttering?_ Jo noticed.

"It was fine. Went as planned. I do think there was some closure there."

"And you're good?" Carolyn eyed her with concern.

"Yeah! I feel like I can move on now," Blair replied.

"That's all I wanted to hear," Carolyn stroked her hand before returning to her friends.

"What was _that_ all about?" Jo demanded.

"What?" Blair gave her an innocent gaze as she sat back down.

" _Oh, um, the um hearing_ …" Jo imitated her. "Since when do you stutter, Blair?"

"Not now, Jo," Blair gave her a look.

"Classic transference, if you ask me!" Jo pointed out.

" _Transference?_ " Blair eyed her. "Who's been researching now?"

"What are you talking about, Blair?"

"Oh, I know you didn't just pull _that_ word out of your ass!"

"Language, Blair!" Monica and Edna spoke at once.

"No, Mom, Mrs. G.! She accused me of researching just because I knew what crepuscular meant and now she pulls out a word like transference?"

"Crepuscular is moth that flies at twilight," Viktor informed.

Everyone stared at him.

"Wait a minute, Viktor," Antwoine laid his hand on his forearm. "You didn't know the difference between macaroni and Beefaroni, but you know what crepuscular means?"

"Is common English word, no?"

"No!" everyone yelled back at him.

Viktor shrugged. "Moth is very beautiful creature. Luna Moth is particularly beautiful. Light green color, flowing tail."

"But not as beautiful as butterflies," Gary interjected.

"Oh, I don't know," Mrs. Garrett mused. "I've always seen a great deal of beauty in moths."

"I like that they're mostly nocturnal. I love the nightlife!" Natalie winked at Gary.

"Yeah, but butterflies are _so_ beautiful," Tootie piped up.

"Plus, they fly in the sun and pollinate," Chris added.

"Little known fact," Viktor popped a snail into his mouth. "Moth's pollinate, as well. Only do it at night."

"Not this again," Jo shook her head. "If you'll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.

"Oleander Hawk Moth is amazing," Viktor continued. "Natural camouflage!"

"Viktor?" Antwoine eyed him. "How do you know so much about moths?"

"KGB. We study creatures for military reasons."

"What possible military use could there be for a moth?" Mrs. Garrett questioned.

"If tell you, must to kill you," Viktor stated matter-of-factly.

Everyone rolled their eyes and returned to their meals.

Blair watched for Jo to return from the bathroom. She noticed that she cornered a waiter on her way back, talking to him intently.

"What was that all about?" she asked as Jo sat down.

"What?" Jo shrugged.

"Why were you talking to the waiter for so long?"

"I wasn't. Why? Jealous?"

"You're the jealous one, Jo: implying that I have a thing for Carolyn. Really? She's like super old… forty or something."

"You thought I had a thing for Julie," Jo pointed out. "Said she looked like an older version of you. Well?"

"Well what?"

"Carolyn looks like an older version of me! Don't even try to tell me you're not attracted to her."

"She _is_ attractive," Blair glanced back over towards Carolyn's party. "And there _is_ that transference thing, as you pointed out. And the older woman thing? Maybe she knows things we haven't thought of yet!"

"Blair!" Jo was upset.

"I'm kidding you, Jo," Blair laughed. "You're my only obsession."

Jo wasn't convinced.

"Blair," Monica called out, "I found this amazing painting in your studio! Very colorful, very Georgia O'Keeffe! I can't quite make out what it is, a little in the abstract, sort of like a flower opening, with shades of red and lavender!"

 _Oh God,_ Jo remembered. _The pussy painting!_

"But it's beautiful!" Monica continued to enthuse. "I would love to frame it and hang it in the penthouse!"

Blair looked at Jo. Jo looked at Blair.

"Um, that painting's not done yet, Mom. Just leave it in the studio for now."

"But, dear, it's lovely! Very evocative of nature in all its glory and power!"

"Not done, Mother!" Blair was assertive as she felt Jo's eyes burning a hole into her. "Just leave it, okay?"

"Oh well, then…" Monica sighed. "But when it's done, I want to add it to our household art collection. It's one of your best, I think."

David was engaged with Gary, asking him about police work as if Gary's Dad's job made him an expert. He suddenly turned to Jo and Blair.

"I would love to see your new place!" he smiled.

"Oh, girls," Monica nodded in agreement. "I would love that, too!"

"Uh, sure," Jo nodded. "Can you drop by on your way home tonight?"

"That works for me!" Monica said.

"I can do that," David agreed.

"Oh, by the way, David," Monica turned to him. "I have your aunt's broach in my car. You know… the one she's been asking you for?"

"Oh, yes, right," David sighed and shook his head. "She's obsessed with getting that broach back."

"Let's just go get it now while we're remembering," Monica suggested.

They walked outside together.

"Uh oh," Viktor looked over at Jo and Blair as Monica and David left. "Parents are coming over. Hope sex toys are picked up."

"Viktor!" Antwoine chastised him.

"Everyone know lesbians love sex toys, Antwoine. I am just saying, is all."

"What sex toys?" Jo looked questioningly at Blair.

"Why are you looking at me, Jo?"

"I don't know, maybe your older girlfriend introduced you to a few things!"

"Wait!" Natalie was baffled. "Blair has an older girlfriend?"

"No!" Blair shook her head. "Jo's just being a smart ass!"

"So… is that true?" Boots eyes grew wide. "About the sex toys? I've always wondered what lesbians do!"

"You've always wondered?" Jo smirked at her. "Something you're not telling us?"

"Of course not!" Boots acted insulted. "I was just wondering if _you two_ used sex toys," Boots pointed at the both of them.

"Still seems like you're a little _too_ interested, Boots," Jo challenged her.

"As most people, I am completely in the dark as to the ways of lesbians. So, _do you_ use sex toys?"

"No!" Blair laughed it off.

"How do _I_ know that?" Jo asked sarcastically. "Maybe you've been introduced to things that I don't know about yet!"

"I am so confused right now," Natalie shook her head.

Blair turned to Jo irritated. "I don't know anything about sex toys any more than you do, okay?"

"Oh dear," Mrs. Garrett blurted out nervously. "That reminds me of something. I've been carrying these around in my handbag since you two moved out. I've always been meaning to return them, but just keep forgetting." She held up a shiny pair of handcuffs. "I've simply got to remember to clean out my purse more often," she shook her head.

Blair snatched the cuffs and quickly handed them to Jo, giving her a look of consternation as she did so. "Why were these in Mrs. Garrett's purse?"

"Why are you looking at me?" Jo complained. "It's _her_ purse!"

"They're certainly not mine!" Mrs. Garrett objected.

"They're yours, aren't they?" Blair glared at Jo.

"Yeah, but…"

"Wow!" Natalie was now fully engaged. "You were right, Boots!"

"Now hold on just a damn minute here," Jo looked flummoxed. "Yeah, they're mine, but they're not a sex toy."

"Then why do you have them, Jo?" Tootie inquired curiously.

"I got them to handcuff myself to Blair," she began to explain.

"That explains so much," Chris nodded.

"Not in that way!" Jo was adamant. "I wanted to make sure she would read my copy on the news for our television journalism class. You remember this, don't you Mrs. G.?"

"Um," Mrs. Garrett looked clouded.

"Sex toy," Viktor drained his wine glass. "As I thought."

"They are _not_ a sex toy!" Jo bellowed as Blair's parents returned to the table.

"Oh my," Monica observed as she sat down casually. "You leave the table for a moment and the most interesting conversation breaks out."

"So, what are we talking about?" David sat down.

"Nothing!" Blair and Jo snapped at once.

"I'm sorry?" David raised his eyebrows.

"You know what?" Blair eyed the table incredulously. "I would just like it if even _one time_ we could go out like normal people without handcuffs, gay bashing, or face-eating, toxic makeup being involved!"

"Not to mention catching my Dad with another woman," Natalie chimed in.

"I wasn't going to bring that up. Sorry, Nat."

"I'm sure we'd all like that, Dear" Monica shrugged nonchalantly. "But, with our set… what can one do?"

"I'm not sure I know what's going on here," David looked puzzled, "but I do think it's time for the check," he raised his hand for the waiter.

On the street outside the restaurant, Blair and Jo said their goodbyes to their friends. They drove ahead of Monica and David to their apartment in Blair's car.

* * *

"So," Blair asked, "you got the key to those handcuffs?"

"Probably," Jo reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a key ring that probably held every key she had ever owned except for her motorcycle key. She looked through the mass of jingling metal. "This might be it."

" _Might be?_ " Blair questioned.

"Yeah. It looks like it, why?"

"Because I'm going to make you pay for tonight."

"Whoa, Blair! _I've_ gotta' pay? You're the one who held hands with another woman! You're the one who left a painting of my private parts in your studio!" Jo cringed with disgust. "Jesus, Blair! Your Mom's seen my pussy!"

"Don't be ridiculous. It's an artistic rendering of your pussy."

"Worse than that… she thought it was beautiful! She loved it!"

"Why wouldn't she? I do," Blair shrugged.

"Because it's your Mother, Blair!" Jo was grossed out. "I don't think I'll ever have sex again!"

"Why? Thought you liked older women. Julie comes to mind."

Jo glared at her menacingly. "You're skatin' on thin ice, Blondie."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Um, I dunno'," Jo sank back into the passenger seat.

Blair rolled her eyes at her. "The handcuffs, Jo? What you going to do about it?"

"Oh!" Jo finally caught her drift. "I'm gonna' make you pay!"

"How?"

"Um… what?"

"How are you going to make me pay? Are you going to punish me or what?"

"Okay, Blair, you're obviously way ahead of me on this one. How about we just see how it unfolds."

"Mmm… folds," Blair licked her lips. "That reminds me of my painting."

"Deviant," Jo grinned at her.

"One of us has to be," Blair eyed her lasciviously as they pulled into the driveway.

After Blair's parents had left, they proceeded upstairs.

"Give me the key," Blair demanded as she produced the handcuffs. Jo shook her head and removed the key from the ring. Blair clicked it into the cuffs to make sure it worked. Satisfied, she turned to Jo.

"Take your clothes off," she eyed Jo up and down.

"Now, wait a minute, Blair," Jo was hesitant. "What are you going to do?"

"Take your clothes off."

Jo took her clothes off and stood naked before Blair. "Now what?"

"Lay down on the bed."

"Uh-uh, no way, Blair."

"Lay down on the bed!" Blair commanded.

Jo reclined on the bed feeling very nervous. "Now what?"

Blair dangled the handcuffs in front of her. "Put your hands up against the bed rail."

"I don't think so," Jo shook her head and sat up.

"Oh, come on, Jo," Blair sat next to her. "This could be fun," she pleaded.

"I'm scared of that look in your eyes when you boss me around. I think you're liking this too much!"

Blair stared at her with consternation. "Well one of us has to be the dominant one!"

"Yeah, but why you?"

"As you pointed out, I _am_ the one with the deviant mind!"

"I just don't know what you're going to do to me."

"Okay… rules," Blair exhaled. "I will never hurt you, unless you want to be hurt, and even then, I won't hurt you, okay?"

"I guess," Jo nodded. "But we need a safe word."

"A safe word? Where did you learn that?"

"I guess I did some research… okay?" Jo rolled her eyes.

"Oh my God, Jo! Me too!"

"That makes us both deviants," Jo laughed.

"In the very best way!" Blair pronounced proudly. "So, a safe word," she pondered.

"We could just go with _ow_ ," Jo proposed.

"Okay," Blair squeezed her nipples hard.

"Ow!" Jo shouted.

"Was that the safe word?"

"Oh, um, no. That just hurt."

"I think we need a better word," Blair reasoned.

"I know! How about _moth_?" Jo was proud of her suggestion.

Blair raised her eyebrows. "I don't want to relegate moths to a safe word, Jo. You know how I feel about them!"

"Okay then, how about _Viktor_?"

"No way!" Blair complained. "That would make me think of Antwoine and all the warm, fuzzy feelings I have for him. Wouldn't do."

They both sat and thought.

"I've got it!" Jo smiled her megawatt smile. " _Boots_!"

"Oh, I like that, Jo," Blair approved. "Our safe word is _Boots!_ Now lay down on the bed!"

Jo was still apprehensive, but laid down anyway. She allowed Blair to handcuff her to the brass head frame of the bed. Once Blair had clicked the handcuffs, she checked them to make sure they were tight. She then stood over the bed and stared down at Jo.

"What are you going to do, Blair?" Jo asked somewhat apprehensively.

"Punish you," Blair stated as she slowly stripped down to her underwear.

"Aren't you going to get naked?" Jo asked.

"No more questions!" Blair squeezed her nipples.

"Ow!" Jo shouted.

"That wasn't the safe word _ow_ , was it?" Blair asked concerned.

"Dammit, Blair," Jo was frustrated, "the safe word is _Boots_!"

"Right!" Blair flipped Jo over. She slapped her naked behind. "That's for thinking I have a thing for Carolyn!" She slapped her again. "That's for you actually having a thing for Julie!"

"I _do not_ have a thing for Julie!" Jo protested. This got her another slap, even harder.

"This is for complaining about my art," Blair punished her ass again. She rolled her over and spread her legs. She slapped between her thighs, right on her sex.

"Ow!" Jo cried out again.

Blair picked up a brush from the nightstand and raked it over Jo's nipples. Jo bucked up as her eyes fluttered back. Blair couldn't stand it anymore as she dove between her legs, ravishing her.

The idea that she was chained to a bed naked and prone before her rich girlfriend drove Jo to heights of ecstasy she had never experienced before. Suddenly, she was blameless in the situation. There was no Catholic guilt. There was no shame in being with a member of the ruling class. She was being dominated and the situation was out of her control. Jo's was so aroused that she exploded into Blair's mouth in a matter of moments, her orgasm overwhelming her. " _Boots, Boots, Boots_ ," she yelled.

"I think you're unclear on the concept of a safe word, Jo," Blair gazed up at her from between her thighs. "You're supposed to use it when I'm hurting you too much, not when you're coming!"

"That was so intense, I thought I might die," Jo exhaled unevenly.

"You want me to stop?" Blair questioned.

"Maybe one more time," Jo breathed heavily. Blair went down again and was rewarded with another explosion from a pulsating nub.

"Okay," Jo closed her legs as Blair came up to kiss her. "That was alright."

"Just all right?" Blair was offended.

"No," Jo laughed. "It was great, Babe, as usual. I only meant the S&M thing. It was alright."

"I kind of got off on it," Blair kicked off her underpants and slinked out of her bra. "It felt powerful." She laid her naked body over Jo's.

"I mean, I don't want to do it all the time," Jo said. "But as a change-up, it's kind of nice."

"Maybe we _should_ get sex toys," Blair suggested.

"We don't need them."

"Yeah, well I could've used a whip or a riding crop tonight," Blair observed.

"What?" Jo couldn't believe what she was hearing. "No way!"

"I would never draw blood, Jo. Just to tease you with."

"I don't know. This was erotic enough for me."

"We can talk about it later," Blair yawned as she curled up next to her and closed her eyes.

"Um, Blair," Jo said.

"What?" Blair yawned.

"The handcuffs?"

"What about them?"

"Take them off, Blair! This isn't funny!"

"Okay, okay," Blair retrieved the key, releasing Jo.

"Next time I'm cuffing you, Blair!" Jo rubbed her wrists as she dropped the cuffs on the nightstand.

"Promises, promises," Blair snuggled up against her.

* * *

It was a perfect late October evening as Blair slid her key into the door. She turned to watch the clouds lit up by the sunset. She dropped her book bag next to the door and headed for the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. Jo had told her that she had to study late at the library, so she was on her own. Blair was confused as she heard the roar of Jo's motorcycle and saw a bunch of blue, white and red balloons pass by the window. She smiled at Jo through the glass and watched amused as she tried to untie the balloons from the back of her bike. She was finally successful as she turned to Blair and smiled sheepishly. Blair didn't know what this was all about, but she felt her heart melt as she watched her tough girlfriend struggle with a bunch of lightweight balloons. Jo had trouble entering the house with all the balloons, as well.

"Whoa! A little help here, Blair?"

Blair took pity on her and helped her gather the unwieldy bouquet through the door.

"What is this, Jo?" Blair laughed.

"The Tricolour!" Jo smiled triumphantly as she handed the balloons to Blair.

"The French Flag?" Blair questioned.

"Hold these, Blair," Jo raised her hand. "I'll be right back!"

Jo reentered with a bouquet of real flowers, and a large bag.

"What is all this Jo?"

Jo started pulling items out of the bag. "A baguette, a bottle of wine, a fine French meal and," she paused for dramatic effect, "the pièce de résistance… a French music cd!"

"I'm sensing a theme here, Jo," Blair folded her hands in front of her as she rocked back and forth, batting her eyes and grinning coquettishly.

"Yeah, well," Jo ducked her head and nodded. "I figured since you had to cancel your European vacation this summer, I'd bring a little of Europe to you. You've had it kind of rough lately." She paused and gazed up nervously at her through dark lashes. "What do you think?"

"I think now I know why you were chatting up the waiter at the French restaurant the other night."

"Well… yeah," Jo shrugged. "I needed a little help."

Blair released the balloons. They flew in various directions towards the ceiling. She crossed over to Jo and took both her hands. "I think this is by far, the sweetest, most considerate, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me."

"Really? So you like it?" Jo asked expectantly.

"Oh, Jo," Blair held her face in her hands and kissed her. "I love it!"

Jo placed the cd into the player, turned it on and threw a white cloth on the table. She lit two candles and quickly set dishes and flatware on top.

"Mademoiselle?" she bowed as she indicated for Blair to sit down.

Blair sat as Jo poured the wine and sat beside her.

"I'm a little surprised at the French theme, Jo. I didn't think you particularly liked French food."

"Uh, we're not eating snails and frogs tonight, Blair. I got that beef and vegetable stuff, instead."

"It's delicious," Blair sampled the Beef Bourguignonne.

"Yeah, I thought after the French restaurant fiasco, that we could use a moment in France to ourselves," Jo smiled sweetly. "Imagine us in a small bistro, the corner table, all of Paris outside…"

"I feel it, Jo!" Blair smiled.

"Just me and you, Babe," Jo returned her smile. "Just me and you."

They clinked their wine glasses together and drank. Later, they found their way upstairs, making love for hours. Jo had one last surprise for Blair.

"I have a night, night story for you," she smiled sweetly at Blair.

"Oh, Jo! Like when we were in the penthouse with Bailey?"

"Yep!"

"Wait! Let me get Mr. Frog!"

Blair snuggled up to Jo with her stuffed toy clutched tightly to her chest.

"Look at this book, Blair! It's everywhere we went to in Paris! The Opera House, the Eiffel Tower…"

"We could go back next summer," Blair interrupted.

"I doubt I could afford that," Jo sighed.

"I'll pay for it, Jo. You know that."

"And you know that I can't accept charity."

Blair sighed deeply. "We're going to have to talk about this."

"But not now," Jo complained. "You're ruining the moment. I was going to read you a night, night story!"

"You're right," Blair held Mr. Frog tight and laid her head on Jo's shoulder. "Proceed!"

Jo began to read:

" _In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines. They left the house, at half past nine… the smallest one was Madeline…"_


	11. Halloween

"So, Chris, where can Jo and I pick up adult toys around here?" Blair asked.

"Like harnesses and dildos and such?"

"Yeah, um, like that," Blair felt a little embarrassed.

"Excuse me, you two," Natalie eyed them disbelievingly. "There's a hockey match going on here!" She gestured towards the field.

It was a gray Saturday afternoon. Blair, Chris, Natalie and Tootie sat bundled up against the late October chill as they watched Jo's field hockey game versus Vassar.

"I don't even know what you guys are doing here," Blair eyed her back. "I promised Jo I'd attend one of these things. But you guys are certainly under no obligation."

"I'm covering it for the newspaper. Our sports reporter got sick," Natalie informed.

"She made me come with her," Tootie reported.

"So, Blair," Natalie continued, "I remember when you first came out, I couldn't even make jokes about it. Now you're asking about dildos right out in public?"

"Yeah, well, since then I've been beaten, called names, stared at and I'm over it. Anyone who has a problem with me being gay can just turn blue!"

"Turn blue? Really Blair? I've heard you let fly with a lot more colorful language than that recently."

"Only under emotional duress. I would prefer not to cuss in public."

"So, it's okay to talk about dildos in public, but not cuss?"

"I never said the word dildo," Blair pointed out.

"No. I did," Chris agreed.

"Besides, it was a private conversation. You shouldn't have been listening," Blair insisted.

"You guys were talking right out loud!"

"I heard it, too," Tootie informed.

"My, what big ears we have!" Blair gave them an irritated look.

"Around here, Blair," Chris picked up the conversation, "the adult toy pickings are pretty slim. You should go to the city. I'll give you the address of a good place."

"Thanks, Chris," Blair shivered as she looked back to Natalie. "None of this better make the paper!"

"Oh for sure, Blair. Langley scored twice, but if you want to score with dildos try Peter's Plastic Penis Palace in Poughkeepsie!"

"Nice alliteration, Nat," Tootie acknowledged.

"Thanks, Tootie."

"Is sex all you guys think about?" Tootie complained. "Now I've got all these images in my head that I _really_ don't want there. There _are_ other things, you know."

"Oh, Tootie!" Natalie exclaimed. "I forgot to ask! How did your audition go?"

"I got the part!" Tootie smiled proudly.

"Congratulations, Tootie!" Blair reached over Natalie to squeeze Tootie's hand. "What's the role?"

"Nina in Chekhov's _The Seagull!"_

"I can't wait to see it!"

"I know! My first featured role in a college production! I'm so excited! Rehearsals will start next week and the play will open in early December!"

"That's great, Tootie," Natalie smiled.

They turned back to the match.

"This is so boring," Blair complained. "I can't believe Jo enjoys this."

"It's not boring to her because she's participating," Tootie said. "Just like I'll be participating in the play. I hope you won't find Chekhov boring. A lot of people do, you know."

"Don't be silly. There's no comparison. I love Chekhov. I'll be there to see you with bells on. I'll even drag Jo along, just for good measure!"

"Thanks, Blair," Tootie beamed, feeling reassured.

"I can't wait to see it," Natalie looked at Tootie proudly.

Suddenly there was a roar from the crowd.

"Dammit! What happened?" Natalie jerked her head towards the field.

"I think we scored a touchdown," Blair ventured.

"It's a goal in field hockey, Blair. Touchdowns are football."

"Oh."

"I'm supposed to be covering this game and between Chekhov and dildos I missed a goal! Thanks a lot, guys!"

"Sorry, Nat," Tootie apologized.

"What's the big deal?" Blair asked. "You can just write: _Langley scored a goal, yadda, yadda, yadda._ "

"That'll get me the Pulitzer," Natalie rolled her eyes.

"It's not like anyone actually reads articles about field hockey games anyway," Blair observed.

"Um, I do," Chris interjected.

"That's _so_ gay, Chris," Blair joked.

"I claim it," her friend nodded proudly.

"Thanks, Chris. See, Blair, there _is_ an audience!" Natalie turned to her smugly. "Now, can you all just be quite and let me concentrate?"

Blair pulled a magazine out of her handbag and started flipping through the pages.

"Blair!" Natalie objected. "You can't sit here at Jo's field hockey match reading _Vogue_!"

"Why ever not?" she shrugged. "You want me to be quiet, don't you? If you won't let me talk, I can't just sit here and do nothing, can I?"

"You're supposed to be supporting Jo by actually _watching_ her play."

"Oh, all right," Blair sighed heavily as she placed the magazine back into her handbag. She returned her attention to the field.

After awhile, Jo got the ball on her stick. She was weaving her way down the field.

"That's Jo with the ball!" Chris shouted.

They all jumped up and cheered. "Go Jo!"

Jo and another player collided and she fell to the ground… hard.

"Oh my God! That girl knocked Jo down!" Blair yelled. "I'm going to kill her!"

"Relax, Blair," Chris put her arm on her shoulder. "Jo's fine, look."

Jo got up and dusted herself off.

"That other girl's getting a yellow card," Chris informed.

"A what?" Blair was confused.

"Field hockey is _not_ a contact sport. She's getting a timeout because she ran into Jo."

"She knocked Jo down and she's only getting a timeout?" Blair was upset. "This is worse than when _I_ played field hockey!"

"Blair?" Chris questioned her curiously. "You played field hockey?"

"I thought it would be an easy elective. Plus, I was looking for ways to spend time with Jo that didn't seem too obvious."

"You two were so twisted back then," Natalie observed.

"You're still a little twisted, if you ask me," Tootie chimed in.

"So? What happened?" Chris asked.

"She sprained her ankle," Natalie informed.

"And then she made Jo take care of her for a week," Tootie added.

"Nice one, Warner," Chris nudged Blair.

"I know, right?" Blair smiled at her.

Jo had the ball on her stick again. She was charging towards the goal.

"Go Jo!" her friends stood and cheered.

This time, no one knocked her down and she scored.

"Whoa! Did you see that?" Blair exclaimed. "The way she weaved in and out of all those bodies with a ball on her stick thingee? She's really good!"

"She is!" Chris agreed.

"Jo! Jo! Jo!" her friends began chanting.

Jo looked up and gave them a bashful grin.

"And cute," Blair mentioned.

"She is," Chris agreed. "You're a lucky woman, Blair."

Blair eyed Jo's supple form: her strong, lithe legs, her muscular, sleek arms, the little smile that crossed her lips as she glanced up at her and gave her a wink.

"I _am_ a lucky woman."

* * *

Blair was leaning against her car, tapping her foot impatiently and periodically checking her watch, as she waited for Jo after the game. A young woman approached her. She was tall, gorgeous and wearing a Vassar jacket. She dropped a sports bag near Blair's feet.

"Hey," she nodded.

"Do I know you?" Blair raised her eyebrows. _How impertinent!_

"Blair, don't you recognize me?"

"Should I?"

"It's me! Katie Flanagan!"

Blair looked her up and down. "Oh my God! Katie?"

They smiled at each other fondly, both at a loss for words.

"You've really grown up," Blair finally managed.

"So have you. How many years has it been? I haven't seen you since…"

"Eighth Grade graduation," Blair finished her sentence.

Katie threw her arms open. "Get over here!" she demanded. They held each other in a prolonged embrace, before Blair extricated herself.

"I've thought about you a lot over the years. Wondering where you were at, what you were doing," Katie said as she held both of Blair's hands. "Whom you were doing it with."

As Blair gazed into Katie's clear gray eyes, she recalled the time they had spent together. There was a little more to the story than she had let on to Jo. It was true that she had worked on an eighth grade project with Katie, but the lessons they had taught each other went beyond the scope of the assignment. She remembered being in her dorm room night after night studying with Katie in their PJ's, until one evening, reclining on the bed together, their heads close, something came over them and they kissed. It happened the next night and the night after that, until one evening, Katie began feeling Blair's breasts over her pajama top. Blair felt herself become aroused for the first time in her life. They began a heavy make out session, fondling each other freely.

There was a little more to Katie than she had let on to Jo, as well. She was hardly the coke-bottle glasses, bucktoothed, pimply-faced girl that Blair had described. In fact, Katie was quite cute back in the day. Not the voluptuous, dark haired beauty that stood before her now, by any stretch of the imagination. But cute in a freckle faced, plump, pubescent kind of way.

The words, _"I'll show you mine, if you show me yours,"_ were seared into Blair's memory.

She had avoided Katie after their night of awkward exploration. Her sexual awakening had scared her. Katie had left for another school the year after that, as Blair started down a path of denial and serial dating that would last until she met Jo.

"I'm right here at Langley," Blair shrugged as she gave her a sweet look. "You're at Vassar?"

"Yep. Captain of the field hockey team this year," the brunette nodded.

"That's great, Katie!" Blair smiled. "I'm happy for you."

Katie rubbed Blair's left hand with her thumb. "So, are you still free or are you…?" Her voice trailed off.

"I'm with someone," Blair said. "I'm in a relationship."

"Oh," Katie dropped her hands. "Well, good for you," she smiled wanly.

"How about you?"

"Haven't met the right person yet, I guess," Katie shook her head.

"You're so beautiful," Blair gushed. "I'm sure there's someone out there just waiting for you to walk into their life!"

"Yeah, maybe," Katie smiled.

The Vassar bus engine roared to life.

"That's my cue, Blair. Here's my number," she quickly scribbled on a piece of paper and pressed it into Blair's hand. "It was great to see you again! Call me!" She kissed Blair's cheek and ran off towards the bus.

"It was great to see you, too!" Blair waved after her.

"What was that all about?"

Blair was startled as Jo walked up behind her.

"What was what all about?" Blair replied innocently.

"Why are you waving at the Vassar bus yelling that it was nice to see them?"

"Oh, nothing. I ran into an old friend, is all."

"Huh," Jo grimaced as she threw her gear into the front trunk of the Porsche. Blair noticed that she was limping slightly.

"Jo? What happened?"

"I got knocked down. You saw that, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but you jumped right up and were running up and down the field!"

"Adrenaline. Besides, I wasn't going to let them see that they hurt me," she slid into the passenger seat gingerly.

"That girl made me so mad!" Blair said as she turned the ignition and started for home.

"It was an accident. She apologized after the match. Don't make a big deal. Okay?"

"I'm not making a big deal. I just don't like to see you hurt."

"Listen, Blair, people get hurt playing sports sometimes. It was an accident. It was actually the team captain who knocked me down. We chatted after the match."

"It was the team captain?" Blair was suddenly riveted. "I didn't know that."

"Eh. Why would you? It's not like she wears a captain's hat like you do on your sailboat."

"Very funny," Blair smirked.

"Besides," Jo continued, "she turned out to be a really great girl."

"She did, huh? Did you get her name?" Blair asked nervously.

"Katie."

"Did you get her last name?"

"What's with the third degree, Blair? I told you her name is Katie!"

"I was just making conversation," Blair feigned indifference.

"So, um, Blair," Jo cleared her throat. "I hope you won't mind, but I kinda' invited her over for the Halloween Dance next Friday."

"You what?" Blair was obviously upset.

"Calm down," Jo advised. "Not like a date or anything. I'm going with you, of course. I just thought she might like to come, seeing as she's gay and everything."

"She's gay?" Blair questioned intently.

"Yeah…," Jo drew out slowly. "She's captain of the Vassar field hockey team. You can't be _that_ surprised."

"Doesn't Vassar have it's own gay dance for her to go to? I mean they practically invented lesbianism, didn't they?" Blair objected.

"No, Blair, that was Smith College. Let's keep our gay facts straight," Jo deadpanned. "Why are you getting so jealous? I told you it wasn't a date, just a friendly gesture between two collegiate athletes."

"I am _not_ jealous, Jo. I just don't know why you had to invite her, after she knocked you down and everything!"

Jo shook her head as they parked in the garage next to her bike. She winced as she got out of the car.

"Let me get your things," Blair offered.

"No, Blair, wait!" Jo called out.

"Whatever for?" Blair was concerned.

"I don't have my camera. If Blair Warner's going to carry my bag, I need to get a picture!"

"You're just full of yourself today, aren't you, Jo?"

"You have no idea," Jo answered cryptically as she limped into the duplex.

* * *

Blair prepared an icepack as Jo sat down on the couch.

"Show me where it hurts, Jo"

She pulled down her pants to reveal a huge black and blue area on her hip.

"Oh my God, Jo! That's hideous!"

"You've got a little work to do on your bedside manner," Jo observed.

"I'm sorry. Here," she laid the icepack against her hip. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

"I'll go into the training room tomorrow," Jo offered. "The football team had an away game today. There will be lots of trainers around to help."

"No, Jo," Blair seemed hurt. "I want to take care of you."

"Look, I promised the coach I'd go into the training room tomorrow for some treatment. She'll be upset with me if I don't go."

"It's so strange she's a she," Blair mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jo snapped.

"I mean, when I got there, I thought she was a man."

"You can be such an asshole, Blair."

"Hey. I didn't say I didn't find her attractive… she's just kind of manly, you know? I'm actually a little intrigued by it."

"You've lost me, Blair."

"The dyke thing… I find it intriguing. There are so many different ways for people to be. Gender identity is so ingrained in us, so when I see someone like your coach, I don't know, I find it kind of fascinating, I guess."

"So… you're attracted to her?"

"I find it attractive that she feels free to define her own gender identity against type. And so, yeah, that _is_ kind of sexy."

Jo sighed and shook her head. "I hope I'm man enough for you, Blair."

Visions of Katie Flanagan, with her blue gray eyes, wavy dark hair and dimples ran through Blair's mind.

"You're perfect," Blair covered quickly. "Except for this horrible bruise. _Please_ let me take care of you, Jo. It means a lot to me, after what you did for me last spring." She batted her eyes and pouted. "Please?"

"If it means that much to you, okay. It's only a bruise, after all."

"Oh thanks, Jo!" Blair gave her a dazzling smile as she kissed her.

"Ow!" Jo complained. "You're on my bruise."

"Oops! Sorry! Sorry! Here, let's put your leg up and I'll make dinner."

"What you gonna' make, Blair?" Jo was apprehensive.

"A phone call," Blair grinned. "I'll order us a pizza."

"Perfect," Jo relaxed back into the sofa.

When the pizza arrived, they ate and chatted casually.

"So, how did Chris, Tootie and Nat like the match?" Jo asked.

"We all found it very exciting when you scored, Jo. You were amazing. I didn't even know you could do that with a ball and a stick!"

"Yeah, well…" Jo smiled. "What can I say? I'm a natural."

"Tootie got the part in the play she was going for."

"That's great! Good for Tootie."

"But both she and Natalie got on my case about dildos."

Jo nearly choked on her pizza. "Why, on earth, would you be talking about dildos with Natalie and Tootie?"

"I wasn't!" Blair was offended. "I was talking to Chris and they were eavesdropping!"

"Christ, Blair, of all the places to have a conversation about sex toys, you pick the bleachers at a field hockey game?"

"I didn't _mean_ for them to overhear… they just did."

"I feel a little exposed, Blair."

"I'm sorry, Jo."

"Tootie was scandalized, I'm sure."

"She wasn't comfortable with it," Blair acknowledged.

"Probably just gave Nat some new ideas," Jo laughed a little.

"Probably," Blair agreed. "But the upside is, Chris gave me an address for a place in the city that caters to women!"

"So, you really want to do this, huh?"

"I want to do everything, Jo!"

"I'm starting to get that."

"And if you're worried about being man enough for me, imagine how manly you could be with a strap-on penis!" Blair enthused.

Jo let her imagination take over for a while. "It could be fun, I guess. Oh, and I'm _not_ worried about being man enough for you. I like being just as I am."

"I like that you're both ways," Blair mentioned.

"Whaddya mean?"

"I love dressing you up, when you'll let me."

"I'm not one of your Barbie dolls, Blair."

"But you look so pretty all made up!"

"Meaning I'm not pretty otherwise?"

"Of course not, Jo. You're gorgeous no matter what. I think your beautiful in your flannel shirts, with your sleeves rolled up, working on your bike. You rock that look, too."

"Jeez, Blair, make up you mind. You want me girly or tough?"

"I want you both ways. I want it all! Spoiled princess, right? I want to have my cake and eat it, too!"

"I'm all for that, so long as I'm your cake," Jo smiled.

"You're my little cupcake, Jo!" Blair giggled.

Jo gave her a menacing look. Blair punched her arm lightly and then leaned her head on her shoulder.

"I love who you are. How you are. You're sexy and beautiful, yet tough… the best of both worlds," she looked up at the posters in the room. "Kind of like Joan Jett!"

"That more than works for me, Blondie," Jo was pleased with the comparison.

* * *

Blair helped Jo up the stairs after dinner. She rubbed Arnica on the bruise gently and prepared a new icepack. She placed a towel under Jo to keep the bed dry. She brought her up a cup of hot cocoa spiked with Bailey's and two aspirin for the pain. She was doing her darnedest to care for her. As she snuggled in beside her, she made sure not to encroach on her injured area.

" _Saturday Night Live?_ " she asked as she picked up the T.V. remote.

"Sounds good, Babe," Jo agreed.

Blair flipped on the television. To her dismay, a silly old baseball game was on. Why were they playing baseball so late?

"Oh my God, Blair! It's the World Series! I forgot all about it today!" Jo was clearly excited. "Leave it here!"

"Seriously, Jo? Haven't we had enough of ballgames today?"

Jo wasn't listening. She was riveted to the screen. "The Red Sox are one strike away from winning the Series. I can't believe this!"

Blair sighed heavily and picked up a novel she was reading.

"Blair, you've got to watch this!" Jo complained. "Boston hasn't won the World Series for 68 years. It's historic!"

"I really don't, Jo," she relaxed back into the pillows. Blair could not understand the significance as Jo hooted and hollered at the screen. Apparently the Boston team was blowing it somehow, which brought Jo great joy. _Oh well, if it makes her happy._

Blair could hear the announcer as she thumbed through her book: _"_ _So the winning run is at second base, with two outs, three and two to Mookie Wilson. A little roller up along first..._ _behind the bag! It gets through Buckner! Here comes Knight, and the Mets win it!"_

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Did you see that, Blair?" Jo was screaming. "They blew it again! The Red Sox blew it again!"

"Keep it down, Jo. You're going to wake the neighbors!"

"That was epic!" Jo continued. "I can't believe what just happened!"

"Why does this make you so happy? I feel sorry for the Boston fans. You said they were close to winning and it had been 68 years. That has to feel awfully disappointing. Besides, I thought you were a Yankees fan."

"That's _why_ it makes me happy. Even if it is the Mets doing it."

"I will never understand sports," Blair yawned. "Can we go to sleep now?"

"We just saw one of the greatest endings _ever_ to a World Series game. How can you sleep?"

"I'll manage," Blair yawned again.

"Okay. Turn out the light. But let's keep the T.V. on for a little while. Let me watch them rerun it a few more times."

"You're a sick woman, Jo Polniaczek."

"Hey! I'm a Yankees fan!"

"Same difference," Blair snuggled up to her and closed her eyes.

She began thinking about Katie Flanagan. How odd was it that Jo would, literally, run into her? How was it that they managed to strike up a conversation after the game? She really didn't want Jo to find out that this was the very same Katie Flanagan she had fooled around with in eighth grade. She hadn't been completely honest with her and she knew that would bother Jo if she found out. Why hadn't she just told her the whole story in the first place? It wasn't that big of a deal. Why lie? She thought of how Katie looked. God, she had grown up gorgeous! She had always found her attractive, obviously. But Katie had matured into a stunning woman! She found her even more attractive now.

 _Wait a minute, am I still attracted to her? Is that what I don't want Jo to know?_

Blair examined her feelings for Katie. She _had_ felt a charge when they embraced. The plump softness had given way to toned muscle, except for her breasts, which from what she could feel as she pressed up against her Vassar jacket, were ample. The brief encounter had bought up sweet memories of her initial sexual awakening. Katie's scent, as they hugged, took her back to her eighth grade dorm room. How exciting it was to feel all those feelings for the first time! It was only the thought of Jo that had caused her to disengage.

 _I'm in love with Jo. She's my one and only true love._

True love. Was it possible to be completely, unequivocally, head-over-heels in love with someone like she was with Jo, and still be tempted by another? This whole thing was too dangerous, she decided. Katie just couldn't show up at the dance! That was that. But what if she did? She had to find another way out. She was drawn out of her musing, as Jo shut off the television and gave her a little squeeze.

"Good night, Blair," she kissed her and let out a little groan as she shifted her weight to remove the icepack.

"Jo?"

"Yeah?"

"If your hip's not well enough, we can skip the Halloween Dance."

"No way, Blair. The Gay Student Union is sponsoring the dance. I'm going and you're coming with me. End of discussion."

"Fascist," Blair grumbled.

* * *

As Blair and Jo prepared for the Halloween Dance, they were periodically interrupted by trick-or-treaters at the door. They both delighted in passing out candy from their very own place. It was an odd right of passage, but they both felt more grown-up by the mere fact that they were the adults responsible for purchasing and dispensing candy. They would act scared by little monsters and coo over little princesses. Blair had almost completely gotten over her Katie anxiety as she handed out candy cheerfully. Jo had not mentioned it again. That was a good sign, she thought.

Finally, they were ready to go. Blair had thought of going as Marie Antoinette, so she could have her cupcake and eat her, too. But she decided the costume was too restrictive for a dance. Instead, she dressed as a 1950's high school girl replete with a poodle skirt, tight sweater, saddle shoes and bobby sox. She wore ruby red lipstick and a ribbon in her hair. Jo decided to go as Zorro, with a black hat, leather pants, mask, boots, sword and cape. She had painted a pencil thin mustache above her lip.

The party was in full swing as they arrived.

"Wow! Look at all these costumes!" Jo was amazed. Her voice was loud as she tried to make herself heard over the band.

"Halloween is the _gayest_ holiday, Jo," Blair shouted back as she winked at her.

The hall was decorated in a Dracula's Castle motif. Jo and Blair were on the decorating committee and had helped set it up earlier in the day. Blair was particularly proud of a fake window she had designed with cellophane panes painted different colors. Jo had rigged a strobe light behind it to make it look as if lightning were striking. The colors reflected the image of the window on the floor in purples and blues. There was a live band dressed as ghouls and dry ice dispensers to complete the mood. Soon they were both dancing and chatting with friends. Chris came dressed as Ziggy Stardust, which was hardly a stretch for her. Gary was there too, dressed as Salvador Dali, with melting clocks hanging off his costume. It was quite humorous.

"You look pretty sexy as a bobbysoxer, Blair," Jo eyed her as they danced.

"I know," she twirled in front of her. Jo caught her and held her with strong arms.

"You're so forceful, sir!" Blair feigned protest.

"Yeah, uh-huh," Jo smiled.

"I'm really getting off on the mask and mustache, Jo," she gave her a come-hither look.

"Later, Blair," Jo promised as she teased her with a kiss.

"Our first gay Halloween, Jo," Blair threw her arms around her shoulders. "I'm so happy!"

"Me, too, Blair," they danced slowly together. "Hey, how about I go get us some drinks?"

"But, I'm not old enough to drink, sir," Blair replied coquettishly as she batted her eyes.

"Just one, little girl," Jo's smile revealed a faux gold tooth.

"Promise you won't take advantage of me!" Blair played her part perfectly.

"I am a gentleman," Jo bowed dramatically so that her sword poked out the back of her cape.

"Oh, sir!" Blair locked her hands and pressed them to the side of her face.

"I'll be right back, Blair," Jo laughed.

Blair swayed on the dance floor by herself, until Gary joined her.

"Damn, you look hot, Blair!" he yelled over the din.

"This is a gay dance, remember, Gary? You can't pick up chicks here," Blair shouted back.

"I know," he smiled charmingly. "But where else could I go dressed like this?"

"Good point," she acknowledged loudly.

"I may not be gay, but these are my kind of my people, ya' know?" he said as he looked around the dance floor at some of the outrageous costumes. "Besides, I brought a friend of yours with me!"

"Really? Who?"

"Back off, Blair," Natalie grabbed Gary's arm. "He's mine for the night!"

She was dressed as Columbia from _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_ and looked quite fetching!

"Natalie!" Blair gave her a hug. "I didn't expect to see you here!"

"Hey, you and Jo may be living the gay lifestyle, but don't expect me to sit on the sidelines and not get in on some of the gay fun!" she grinned at her. "You're not mad, are you?"

"Of course not!" Blair laughed. "It's great that you're here!"

"This is so much fun, Blair!" Natalie could hardly contain her joy. "C'mon, Gary! Let's boogie!"

As they danced away, Blair began to look around for Jo. Where _was_ she? Finally, she spotted her in a corner of the room, behind a fog machine. She made her way over to her. Jo's back was turned as she approached. Blair reached around and cupped her breasts.

"Hey there stranger," she spoke into her ear. There was only one, slight problem… these were not Jo's breasts! Blair would know the feel of her girl's cupcakes anywhere. These were much larger. She quickly unhanded this second Zorro as the woman turned around.

"Hello, Blair," two cool gray eyes stared out at her from behind a black mask.

"K-K-Katie?" Blair stammered as her face flushed. "I'm so sorry!'

"Don't be!" Katie's dimples flashed. "I can think of a lot worse ways to be greeted than that!"

"I thought you were my girlfriend," Blair explained.

"That's a nice thought," Katie replied.

"She's dressed as Zorro, too," Blair continued. "She was getting me a drink."

"Hey! There you are!" Jo came up on them and handed Blair her drink.

Blair gulped hard as she blinked at Jo. _Now what?_

"Jo?" Katie smiled. "Is that you?"

"Oh my God, Katie!" They stared at each other's costumes. "Great minds think alike!" Jo finally laughed.

"We can be the Zorro twins!" Katie offered amiably. "So, Blair is your girlfriend?"

Jo threw her arm around Blair. "Isn't she something?" she beamed proudly at Blair. "So you two know each other?"

"We were at Eastland together for a while!" Katie informed.

"Wow! Blair Warner and Katie Flanagan were classmates at Eastland," Jo gave Blair a look. "Now here you are at a gay dance together all these years later. Talk about a small world!"

Blair chugged the rest of her drink.

"Yeah, totally," Katie agreed. "You two make a cute couple."

"Yep, that's us," Jo squeezed Blair's shoulder. "Cute."

Blair and Jo glared at each other.

"I'm feeling hot," Blair blurted. "Isn't it hot in here?"

Jo and Katie looked at each other and shrugged.

"I'm good," Katie smiled.

"Me too," Jo said.

"I'm hot," Blair handed her cup to Jo. "I need some fresh air." She bolted across the dance floor towards the door.

"Is everything okay, Jo?" Katie questioned.

"I'll be right back, Katie," Jo patted her arm.

Blair was standing outside, shivering against the cold. The music from inside the hall wafted around her in echoing strains.

"What are you doing out here, Blair?" Jo came up behind her.

"Go ahead… just let me have it, Jo. I deserve it."

"What are you talking about, huh?"

"You knew who Katie was the whole time, didn't you?"

"Actually, no," Jo chuckled. "I didn't figure out her connection to you until you started grilling me about her in the car last Saturday."

"Ugh," Blair dropped her head as her shoulders slumped.

"You're freezing," Jo wrapped her up from behind in her cloak. She ran her hands up and down her arms to warm her.

"So, I gave myself away," Blair leaned back into her.

"I would've figured it out eventually. I'm not stupid, you know," Jo rested her cheek against Blair's. "Why do you do this stuff, huh? You get all mad at me for not being totally transparent and then you lie about something as stupid as this."

"You think it's stupid?"

"That you didn't tell me how attractive she is?" Jo asked. "Yeah. That's stupid. Makes me wonder what else you didn't tell me."

"I'll tell you everything, Jo. No secrets."

"Okay, but not now, Blair. It's freezing out here."

"I'm going to pay for this later, aren't I?"

"Oh yeah," Jo whispered. Blair could feel her hot breath against her ear. It excited her. She turned in Jo's arms.

"Will you punish me?" she batted her eyes at Jo seductively.

"Count on it," Jo kissed her.

"I can't wait," Blair kissed her back passionately.

"C'mon," Jo gave her a little smile. "Let's get back inside before we become an ice sculpture out here."

They entered the hall hand-in-hand.

"I wonder where Katie got off to?" Jo looked around.

"Oh my God, Jo, there she is… dancing with Chris!"

"I approve," Jo nudged Blair. "How 'bout you?"

"I, um… think they make a cute couple."

"You _um_ think they make a cute couple? Not very convincing, Blondie."

"I'm just not sure they're right for each other," Blair shrugged.

"What are you talking about? Chris is all high society, Katie's a jock… they're perfect together!"

"Opposites _do_ attract," Blair sidled up next to her.

* * *

As Blair searched her handbag for her keys, Jo reached around her and unlocked the door.

"You were kinda' quiet on the way home," Blair mentioned as the entered the house.

Jo removed her cape and hat and threw them on the table with a dramatic flair.

"Katie was a mousy little thing?" she walked towards Blair.

"She blossomed?" Blair backed up.

"Coke bottle glasses?" Jo continued towards her.

"Um, maybe she got contacts?" Blair backpedaled.

"Buck teeth?" Jo moved closer to her.

"She got braces?" Every step Jo took towards her, Blair matched with a backward step.

"Pimply face?"

"Clearasil?"

Blair turned on her heel and ran up the stairs. Jo gave chase. Blair tried to slam the door on her, but Jo blocked it with her sword.

"You've been a bad girl," Jo shook her head.

"I have," Blair backed up against the bed and gave her an innocent look.

"You have to be punished."

"But, I _am_ sorry, sir!" Blair batted her eyes.

"Discipline has to be maintained," Jo ran her sword gently over her sweater, outlining her breasts.

"Oh, I agree," Blair breathed heavily.

Jo began to lift her sweater with the sword. Blair immediately reached down to help with the process.

"Stop!" Jo commanded. "What are you doing you horrible, wanton little girl?"

"Um…" Blair was confused.

"I'll tell you when to remove your sweater!"

"Yes sir."

Jo stood uncertain for a moment. "Remove your sweater!" she finally said.

Once Blair's sweater was gone, Jo took the sword and ran it up the length of her shirt. Buttons flew all over the room.

"Holy shit, Jo! I thought that was a fake!" Blair complained. "You could've cut me!"

"Wow!" Jo was equally as surprised. "I got it from Tootie. I thought she said it was stage prop!" She glanced at the sword. "Cool!"

"Cool?" Blair glared at her with her shirt open and bra exposed.

Jo tossed the sword on the bed and sat down. She patted her lap. "It's time for your punishment," she smirked.

Blair quickly got back into character. "I hope it won't be too severe, sir."

She laid herself across Jo's lap. Jo tossed her poodle skirt up over her head and pulled down her underwear. Loud slaps could be heard as she punished Blair's behind. She watched as Blair's ample rear end jiggled under her hand. She felt herself becoming more aroused with each slap. She observed Blair's derrière turn pinkish red under her barrage. _Maybe I should stop._

"Don't stop!" Blair called out. She enjoyed being spanked by Jo. She was becoming very wet as she rubbed her essence against Jo's leather pants.

"I love your ass, Babe, but I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you," Jo expressed her concern.

"There are other things you could do to my ass," Blair propped herself up to look at her.

"Meaning?"

Remember when I went to New York last Wednesday to visit Mom and Bailey? Well, I stopped by the sex shop and picked us up some toys."

"Damn, Blair, I wanted to go with you!"

"I know. And you still can… later. But, I wanted to surprise you on Halloween Night!"

"So… what did you get?"

"Look in the bathroom, Jo. I've cleaned them and laid them out for you. All ready for use!"

"When did you do that?"

Blair righted herself and sat next to her. "When that last round of trick-or-treaters came by and I told you I was working on my hair, remember?"

"You are so devious, Blair."

"I know. But go put the little one on. You can continue my punishment!"

Jo walked into the bathroom. There were three rubber dildos laid out on a towel. One was large and double headed. The next was not as large, but looked like it was battery operated with the head of some kind of animal on it. The third was small with a base that had pleasure nodes. There was a harness sitting next to several different bottles of… something. Jo had never seen anything like it. _Absolutely incredible,_ she thought. _What world have I stepped into?_ She couldn't decide whether she thought it looked like a sex toy emporium or a severed penis factory. It was Halloween, after all!

"I don't have to tell you to get naked, do I?" Blair called out from the bedroom.

 _I'm supposed to be in charge here, but she's still ordering me around,_ Jo thought with some irritation. She tried to slip into the harness. It was more complicated than she expected.

"I'm not sure I'm doing this right, Blair," she called out.

"Oh for crying out loud, Jo! You can figure out a motor cycle engine but you can't manage a harness?"

 _I can manage a harness_ , Jo was chagrinned. When she finally thought she had it right, she looked down at the dildos. _I guess Blair wants the little one to start._ She slid it into place. It felt incredible up against her naked sex. She exited the bathroom to find that Blair had changed into a revealing negligée. She stood frozen for a moment, taking in every inch of Blair's sexiness.

"What do you think?" she finally managed as she looked down at her rig.

"Oh, Jo! Go put your mask back on!" Blair complained. "I want to be taken by a mystery man."

Jo did as she was told. When she returned to the bedroom, Blair was leaning over the bed with her rear end exposed.

"Are you sure about this, Blair? I mean, this goes _way_ beyond anything I ever imagined doing."

Blair propped her head up on one elbow. She eyed Jo incredulously. "Do I look like I'm sure?"

"Okay then," Jo sighed.

"Wait!" Blair suddenly called out.

"What?" Jo was startled.

"You put lube on it, didn't you?"

"Um… lube?"

"The oils I set out for you?" Blair said in an exasperated manner. "Duh!"

"Jesus, Blair, you're so demanding!"

"Do you really think I would let you penetrate my rear end without lubrication?"

Jo retreated to the bathroom and looked at the assembled oils.

"And don't use the heated oil, Jo!" Blair called to her. "Use the gel one!"

" _Don't use the heated oil!"_ Jo mimicked her voice in an irritated fashion. She reached for the gel and spread it liberally across the small phallus. _I'll give you a lube job, Blair! You want to get fucked in the ass? I'm going to fuck the hell out of your ass!_

"Is my punishment over?" Blair called out as Jo reentered the bedroom. She displayed her rear end provocatively.

"You still gotta' pay, little girl," Jo fell back into her role as she slapped her ass again.

She parted Blair's butt cheeks and eyed her puckered anus.

"Are you sure about this, Blair?" she questioned.

"God dammit, Jo, how many times do I have to tell you…" Blair began to complain.

Jo rammed the dildo into Blair's opening, to shut her up, if nothing else. It worked. Blair let out a gasp. Jo looked down at the small rubber phallus now inserted firmly. She began to move, back and forth. Soon, she was rocking in a regular rhythm, the small dildo moving in and out rapidly as she slapped against Blair's ass.

"Oh God… Oh God, Blair!" she moaned as she closed her eyes and pushed in harder. The pleasure nodes were doing their job as she opened her eyes to view the spectacle of her fucking Blair's ass. She had always loved Blair's butt, so round and firm and inviting. Now she was claiming it in the most erotic way possible. Blair continued to moan: whether from pain or pleasure, Jo couldn't tell. But, truth be told, at this point, she didn't care. She collapsed on Blair's back as her orgasm overwhelmed her. "Oh God, Blair," she moaned, "Oh God, Blair" she gave one last thrust before the dildo was ejected.

"It was good for you, I'm guessing?" Blair finally regained her voice.

"Are you kidding me? That was incredible!" Jo rested against her back. "Uh… are you okay?"

"Itwas interesting," Blair said.

"You didn't like it?"

"I wanted to try it and I _sort of_ liked it," Blair rolled over. "It was certainly erotic, but it kind of hurt a little."

"So, what's next, Blair?" Jo asked expectantly. She knew Blair hadn't taken all the trouble to line up three dildos without a second act.

She was right.

"Go put on the double headed one, Jo,"

"Um, okay."

"Also, take off your mustache and mask. If we're going to do the traditional sex position, I want to be fucked by you… not Zorro."

"There's nothing about this that is the least bit traditional," Jo mentioned as she retreated into the bathroom.

She didn't exactly know why, but somehow, after just having violated her in the most taboo way possible, she was more Blair's sex slave than ever. She eyed herself in the mirror as she snaked the huge double-headed dildo through the harness. _Wow!_ It looked like she actually had a huge penis! She jiggled it up and down and laughed. Which oil would Blair like?

"Um, Jo?" she heard Blair's voice. "Put the camphor oil on this time, okay?"

Jo surveyed the oils left for her on the bathroom sink. She chose the one she thought Blair meant and rubbed it all over her fake penis. She sauntered back into the bedroom, the double-headed dildo hanging between her legs. Blair was completely naked. Jo caught her breath. She gathered herself.

"Whaddya think?" she grinned nervously.

"Oh, Jo…" was all Blair could manage. The vision of her female lover with a large phallus hanging between her legs was completely erotic. She spread her legs wide revealing her full sex to her.

"Jesus," Jo exhaled loudly as she felt her knees grow weak. The dildo moved against her crotch as she felt herself becoming even more excited. She mounted Blair gently. She kissed he lips, her neck. She positioned the dildo so that it slid into her own vagina slightly. She then inserted it into Blair's opening and pushed it up inside her. Blair let out a groan.

"Am I hurting you?"

"It hurts a little, just give me a second, okay?"

Jo waited, not knowing what to do.

"Okay, I think I can handle it. Fuck me, Jo."

She began to plunge in and out: slowly at first, them more aggressively. Blair began to moan as she met her thrust and her hips bucked up. They found a powerful rhythm together and fucked vigorously. After a prolonged interval of groaning, moaning and sighing, they both gave over to a cascading mutual ecstasy.

"Blair," Jo breathed into her neck, "that was amazing!"

"I liked it."

They both laughed.

Jo slowly slid the dildo out of Blair. "Let me get out of this thing," she struggled to remove the harness.

"So, what did you think?" Blair asked.

"I think we took it to another level tonight, Blair."

"The sex toy level," Blair joked.

"I can't believe you let me do all those things to you," Jo was still struggling with the harness.

"Someone had to be the guinea pig. Your turn's coming."

"Yeah… I don't know about that. I don't think I could take it like you did."

"You might like it, Jo. You always have to be willing to try new things. I think I've mentioned this to you before."

"I still don't know. It's not my fantasy to be violated like that."

"I have to admit, it _was_ my fantasy to have you take me like that," Blair smiled shyly. "I mean, I wouldn't let anyone else do that to me, so it's not a general fantasy, or anything. But, I really liked having you violate me. It felt like _you_ were inside me. It was powerful and amazing."

"Wow. I guess that's quite the compliment. Thanks, Blair!"

"I _will_ make love to you like that, Jo."

"I love you making love to me, Blair. But putting a foreign object inside me? I don't know."

"We haven't tried the vibrator, yet," Blair teased. "I think I'll break that in on you. I don't know why you're bothering to argue with me. You know I always get my way on these things."

Jo thought about this. Blair _was_ right. She did, eventually, always get her way. Not that she minded. She had, so far, very much enjoyed Blair's sexual adventurism: the shaving, making love on the beach, the handcuffs, the toys tonight. But she was going to make her have to work for this one! "We'll see," she relented a little. "So… are you sore at all?"

"I let you know in the morning," Blair scrunched her nose.

"This was great… for tonight. But, I don't want to have to do this every time, you know? Ramming that dildo inside of you took a lot of energy. You're lucky I'm in shape!"

"I am lucky," Blair sighed.

"So that reminds me… exactly _how_ lucky did you get with Katie Flanagan?"

"Seriously?" Blair eyed her disbelievingly. "I just let you violate me in every way possible and you're going to bring up another girl?"

"I know," Jo felt somewhat annoyed at herself. "But, if you don't tell me, it's going to bug me."

"It was nothing, Jo," Blair sighed. "We showed each other our parts, is all."

"How?"

"I lifted my shirt for her, she lifted her shirt for me…"

"And then?"

"And then I laid on the bed and pulled down my pajama bottoms and underwear so she could get a look at my business."

"Did it turn you on?"

"What do you think? Hell, yes, it turned me on!"

"Did you let her touch you?"

"No. She just looked. And then she let me look at hers. That was it, Jo. I swear."

"Huh," Jo continued to extricate herself from the harness. "So why did you lie about this?"

"I didn't want you to think there was anyone else. Back then… I was so closeted. I guess I still can't deal with how I treated people because of my internalized homophobia."

"It's okay, you know. I don't care that you had an adolescent fling with another girl. I _do_ mind that you try to hide it from me."

"I know. I'm sorry. How about you?"

"How about me what?"

"Any adolescent flings you would care to share with me?"

"I liked a lot of girls, for sure, but in my neighborhood? No way! It wasn't until I got to Eastland that I discovered that what I was looking for was possible."

"Me?"

"Yep."

"That makes me feel special, Jo," Blair locked her hands behind her head and relaxed back into the pillows. "So, which part did you like best tonight?" she queried.

"I liked it all," Jo smiled as she deposited the harness on the bedroom floor. "So, Blair, are you sure you've never done this kind of thing before? I mean, you seemed pretty natural at it once we got started."

"Look, Jo, I didn't tell you about Katie, but that's it, okay? You know _everything_ now. Besides, you seemed pretty natural at it yourself."

"I did?" Jo smiled, obviously pleased with herself.

"Uh-huh," Blair looked up at her and grinned seductively.

Jo wrapped her up in her arms. "Happy Halloween, Blair!"

"You know, this reminds me…"

"What, Babe?" Jo held her in a tight embrace.

"We need to get a Christmas tree this year."

"Me fucking you with a strap-on reminds you that we need a Christmas tree? You just have no real connection to Christmas at all, do you?"

"No, silly," Blair slapped her arm. "You said _Happy Halloween_ , that reminded me of the holidays and Christmas."

"Oh," Jo rubbed her back and hugged her.

"Besides, I had a family Christmas once."

"Yeah? When?"

"That time I stayed with you and Mrs. Garrett."

Jo breathed deep and paused. "I remember that. You came home and surprised us. It was one of my best Christmas's, too, Blair."

"How so?"

" _You_ were there."

"Aw, that's so sweet," Blair snuggled closer to her. "Do you remember I snuck into bed with you that night?"

"And fondled my breasts… yeah, I remember."

"Jo! You were awake?"

"Jesus, Blair, you were feeling me up! If that's not going to wake a person up, I don't know what will!"

Blair looked at her. "I thought you were asleep."

"I guess you could say that I had never been more awake. I was so turned on. I had never felt like that."

"Then why were you so harsh the next morning?"

"I was terrified of my own feelings. I was scared."

"We've wasted so much time being afraid, Jo," Blair offered rather sadly.

"Hey," Jo wrapped her in a tight embrace. "We're making up for it now. I love you, Blair."

Jo pulled the covers over them. Blair snuggled as close as she could.

"I love you too, Jo. Happy Halloween."


	12. Happy Endings

Blair spent much of November studying for the LSAT. One day, Jo arrived home and surprised her.

"I found this amazing LSAT study guide, Blair!"

"Let me see it," Blair reached out her hand skeptically, not looking up at Jo from her position on the couch. She thumbed through the pages and smiled up at her.

"This one _is_ good," she smiled. "How thoughtful of you… as usual. Thanks, Jo."

"I want to make sure you get into the law school of your choice," Jo nodded determinedly. She eyed Blair curiously. "So… where are you thinking of applying?"

"It depends a lot on my LSAT score. But, I was thinking of Columbia and NYU. They're both top ten."

"So not California… Berkeley?"

"Um, I don't know," Blair gazed at her inquisitively. "You want to move to California?"

"Not particularly. I just was wondering because you had mentioned it before."

"I'd like to move back to New York City, Jo. How about you?"

"I'm all for that. But, where would we live? I don't want to take up permanent resident in your mother's penthouse."

"We could get our own place in Manhattan."

"Not sure I could afford that, Blair."

"I've been thinking about that," Blair closed the book and pulled Jo down to sit beside her. "I could lend you some money to invest. Once you make a profit, you could pay me back, so it's not charity. After that, your money would grow on its own and be totally yours."

"I don't know, Blair. The stock market is like gambling. What if we lose your initial investment?"

"There's a trick to investing. You gamble when you bet on companies to make a profit. The thing is to anticipate the next big thing and invest in the raw materials needed to make it grow. For example: I think cellular phones are going to take off. We find out what materials are needed to make cell phones and the infrastructure needed to support them and we invest in that!"

"I dunno', Blair. It still sounds risky. Besides, if you put money in the market, you have to let it stay and grow, right?"

"Most of the time."

"So, I don't see what good that does me. I'll need money immediately if we move to Manhattan."

"If we invest right, your shares will gain value. You can choose to sell some or buy more. But, it is kind of better if you let them grow in value."

"I don't see the market as a solution."

"Jo, my family owns whole buildings in Manhattan. We could live for free."

"I'd be mooching off you. What if we got into a fight?"

"What? We fight all the time!" Blair pointed out.

"Um, bicker… remember, Blair?"

"Right, bicker. Why is it you think, after all these years and everything we've been through, that there is _anything_ that could tear us apart?"

"I don't _want_ us to have a falling out, but you never know. We're both young… life happens."

"I'm kind of offended, Jo. First of all, I would never give up on you. Secondly, if we did have a huge falling out, I'm not the kind of person who would leave you high and dry. Don't you know that?"

"That's even worse! Not only would I be taking advantage of you financially, but I would be taking advantage of your kind nature, as well!"

"I'm never going to leave you, Jo. I feel that with every fiber of my being. I can't imagine ever loving another the way I love you."

Jo slid her hand into Blair's. They locked digits. "I feel the same way. That's why I always want to be on equal footing with you."

"Let's not let money come between us," Blair smiled sweetly. "I could be happy with you living in a box."

"Might get a little crowded," Jo laughed. She smiled at her lover. "How much of an initial loan are you thinking about?"

"We'll start small, Jo," Blair was suddenly excited. "Say… $10,000?"

"Ten thousand dollars?" Jo was shocked. "No way!"

"Five thousand?"

"Nope. Uh-uh."

"One thousand? C'mon, Jo!"

"What if we lose that?" Jo was still hesitant.

"We won't!" Blair was very sure of herself. "But if we lose it, I'll take it out in trade."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you'll be my sex slave."

"Shut up, Blair. I already am your sex slave."

"Jo?" Blair eyed her seriously. "We won't lose money on this, I promise."

"All right, then," Jo relented begrudgingly. If she was going to be with Blair, she would have to find a way to make her own money eventually. Although, she didn't like the stock market, Blair's family was kind of expert at it. Plus, the cell phone thing _did_ make sense. She loved technology and had to agree that cell phones were probably the next big thing.

"You look lost in thought, Jo," Blair elbowed her.

"It's so hard for me to even take a short term loan from you, ya' know? I'm battling years of indoctrination here."

"Therapy, Jo," Blair smiled brightly. "It's done wonders for me!"

"I was thinking that maybe I could get my Master's Degree in Social Work. That would qualify me to actually _be_ a therapist."

"I think you have to go through therapy to be a therapist," Blair conjectured.

"Probably. I can handle it," Jo smiled. "Might do me some good!"

"Good to know," Blair rested her hand on her knee. "What university?"

"I think Columbia will have more financial help, as it's Ivy League and heavily endowed."

"Plus, you're on track to be valedictorian… again," Blair shook her head and smiled proudly at Jo. "I think you could get a huge financial package from Columbia. We wouldn't have to worry about money and being on equal footing then!"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Jo cautioned. "But, I'll apply to both NYU and Columbia, just like you!" she beamed.

"Aw! That's so sweet!" Blair laid her head on her shoulder.

"Yeah, I figure if I get my Master's Degree in Social Work, I could help a lot of people, like Julie does."

"Or you could get a PhD. and hang a shingle, like Carolyn. There's a lot more money in that," Blair pointed out.

"Nah, I'm more interested in social causes than general psychology. I could also pursue software development. That interests me a lot."

"There's going to be huge money in that, Jo. I know you're going to do what you want, but I'd really like to encourage you to look into software development!"

"We'll see. That's kind of centered in California, right now."

"I can still apply to Cal, or Stanford!" Blair spoke up enthusiastically.

"Really, Blair? You'd follow me to California?"

"I'd follow you anywhere, silly. You know that!"

"Eh… they probably have lots of classes on software development at Columbia," Jo suddenly turned quiet.

"What is it, Jo?"

"I guess I haven't been really thinking about this enough, Blair. Our future is upon us. We need to make some decisions. Guess I should start researching," she grinned.

"Whatever you decide, I'll be right there with you."

"Promise?"

"Pinky swear," Blair held out her little finger. Jo locked fingers with her.

"So," Blair began slowly. "Are you still going to the prison with me next week?"

"Shit!" Jo spat out. "If we _have to_ go!"

"I have to go, Jo. I have to find out why he wants to talk to me."

"I don't like it… meeting with one of your attackers."

"When I saw him in court, he mouthed _I'm sorry._ I need to know what he meant by that."

"And why he did it, Blair?"

"Yeah… that, too."

"What if there is no explanation? What then?"

"I move on," Blair looked at her with puppy dog eyes. "You _are_ still coming, right?"

"You're not going without me!" Jo placed a protective arm around her shoulder. "I'd rather talk about investing, than this."

"I have a few more suggestions on that topic!" Blair brightened.

"I have a few ideas of my own," Jo ventured. "I think we should throw some money at Apple Computers. I really like the personal computer and I noticed you had a Macintosh in your bedroom at the penthouse."

"Daddy and I already have Apple stock. I've researched their philosophy and I like it. It _is_ risky, however. Microsoft does not have the same philosophy and may do better for that very reason. If we're investing in computers, we should look at the software aspect, as well. Maybe we should diversify and invest in both Microsoft and Apple," Blair suggested.

"Yeah," Jo rested her head on Blair's. "You could be right."

"It will mean a larger initial investment, as well," Blair added.

Jo sighed. "I feel my life as a an indentured sex servant beginning."

* * *

Blair was impatient as she waited for Patrick Sweeney to enter the room. She tapped her foot and eyed the clock on the wall.

"Calm down, Blair," Jo advised. "I'm right here with you. Relax, will ya'?"

"I just want this over with," Blair complained.

"We don't have to be here at all," Jo pointed out vehemently. "I'm good with getting out of here!"

"My client is very grateful that you agreed to meet with him, Ms. Warner," Patrick's lawyer lobbied.

Just then, the door opened and a shackled young man in prison garb was ushered into the room by a guard. He was younger than Blair and Jo. His blonde hair was shaved close to his head. His face was bruised. He sat down across the table from them.

"Thank you for coming," he began.

"There are rules here, Patrick, as we discussed," his lawyer advised. "You have to let Ms. Warner speak first."

"Sorry," he shrugged.

 _This? This was one of the boys who beat me?_ Blair wondered at the sight of him: so young, so innocent looking, so skinny… he couldn't have been more than 120 pounds soaking wet! _This guy put me in the hospital?_

"Ms. Warner?" his lawyer looked at her. "Do you have anything to say to my client?"

Blair gathered herself. She took a deep breath. Jo locked hands with her under the table.

"Why?" was all she could manage.

"I am so sorry," Patrick began. "I never meant to hurt you."

"Then… why?" Blair asked again.

"My cousin, Aaron, he's a hothead who drinks too much. I was with him that night. He just got out of control. Please know that I never touched you! I was there, but I never touched you… I'm so sorry!"

"So you didn't touch her?" Jo squeezed Blair's hand tighter as she tried to control herself.

"The police record verifies this," his lawyer reported.

"I watched. I should've stopped it, but I didn't."

"Meanwhile, Blair gets the crap kicked out of her!" Jo jumped up.

The guard took a step towards her. "Shall we end this, Mr. Stevens?" he asked Patrick's lawyer.

"Sit down, Jo," Blair exhaled calmly. "I want to hear his story."

"There is no story," his eyes filled with tears. "I was with the wrong people and didn't do anything to stop what happened. I'm so sorry."

"That's it?" Blair asked. She was fighting her own emotions. She was still very angry about the attack, but was starting to feel sympathy for the scrawny kid sitting across from her.

"I wanted to go to trade school," he began to cry, "be a carpenter. Now I'm here."

"Have you learned anything, at least?" Blair questioned.

"Yeah. Not to hang out with assholes! I should've stood up for what was right."

"Hell yes, you should have!" Jo blurted out. She had tried to maintain a lid on her emotions and let Blair talk. She had thought this whole idea of meeting with one of Blair's attackers a misguided notion in the first place. But Blair had thought it important to face those who had wronged her. She ultimately had supported Blair's decision, as usual, but with the caveat that she could only go to the prison if she was with her. She had promised to keep her mouth shut.

"What happened to your face?" Blair asked. "How did you get those bruises?"

Patrick eyed the guard. "It's better if I don't say."

"I see," Blair nodded.

"Thanks for meeting with me, Ms. Warner. I needed to apologize to you face-to-face. Thank you for coming." He began to get up.

"Patrick?" Blair said.

"Yeah?" he turned back to her.

"I'm going to make sure you get to go to a trade school."

"Why would you do that for me after what I did to you?" he was amazed.

"I want you to be a carpenter," Blair smiled sweetly at him as he was led away.

"Thank you," his voice trembled as he shuffled out the door.

Jo drove the Porsche back through the rain to Peekskill as Blair rested her head on the passenger side window. They had been silent since leaving the prison.

"What was that all about back there, eh Warner?" Jo finally ventured.

"Jesus, Jo… you and I are talking about Columbia and Cal. That poor kid just wanted a chance to go to trade school."

"That poor kid stood around and watched while you were almost beaten to death!"

"He made a mistake. Should he have to pay for it for the rest of his life?"

"It was a _big_ mistake, Blair!"

"I know, but…" her voice trailed off.

"You're going to help him," Jo shook her head.

"I want to, Jo," she turned to her. "Did you see his face? What do you think is happening to him in there? I mean, you don't think…?"

"It's possible," Jo cut her off. "I'm not going to lie to you. It ain't ping pong prison, Blair."

"Your Dad was in prison. Mine could've gone for that insider trading my Grandfather did. I think we should look at what's going on with our prison population. I think resources need to be devoted to improving their lot. And, yes, I'm going to help Patrick."

"Patrick is it now? You're too soft hearted, Blair."

"Nevertheless, I'm going to have Daddy pull some strings with the governor and get him transferred to a safer prison."

"Okay, then," Jo sighed. She knew when to give up.

They were silent for the rest of the trip, both lost in thought. Blair rested her head against the window and absently twisted and untwisted a strand of golden hair. Jo would glance over at her periodically. Was there no end to her kindness, to her generosity, her compassion? She had thought that the well of her heart had been filled to overflowing with her love for Blair. But with each glance, she felt it expand even deeper.

* * *

When they arrived home, Jo made her dinner. Blair was still disturbed by what she had seen at the prison. She was not her usual chipper, feisty self. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky outside, accompanied by a loud crash of thunder.

"Oh Jo!" Blair came to life as she ran to the window. "Let's go outside and watch!"

"What? Are you nuts, Blair? It's about to pour down rain again!"

"But until it does…" she opened the door and ran out onto the deck.

Jo followed her out with a coat that she placed around Blair's shoulders. "You are nuts, girl."

Another flash of lightning streaked across the sky. Its reflection had barely disappeared from the river when a thunderclap roared through the night.

"This is amazing, Jo!" Blair leaned back into her.

"Uh, we're standing next to the woods here," Jo stated nervously. "Trees are kind of nature's lightning rods, right?"

"Oh look, Jo, another one!" Blair was excited.

"A little too close, Blair," Jo wrapped her in an embrace. "Let's go inside!"

After a few more lightning strikes, the rain began to fall… heavy. Blair turned her face up and let the rain wash over her.

"C'mon," Jo finally insisted as she pulled her inside. "We're all wet now," she complained.

"We're alive, Jo. I want to live every moment, feel every moment, embrace every possibility!"

"I'm right there with ya', Blair," Jo smiled lovingly at her. "But you remember what happened that time you insisted on sleeping with the window open so you could experience the moon unfettered?"

"I got a cold?"

"Yep! And that's what's going to happen now if you don't get upstairs, dry off and get under the covers. I'll bring us up some hot chocolate." She eyed her maternally. "Go on!"

Blair started up the steps. She turned back to Jo. "With Bailey's?"

"Is there any other way?" Jo grinned.

Blair was in bed when Jo came up with their hot chocolate. She got out of her wet things, dried her hair and snuggled in beside her. She pulled the comforter up about them and turned out the light. They drank their hot chocolate and watched the storm through the window.

"I just love nature, don't you?" Blair enthused.

"Uh… from a distance," Jo laughed.

"This is so romantic, Jo," Blair sighed as she took another sip from her mug.

"I'll give you that, Blair."

They finished their hot chocolate and held each other.

"Will you make love to me tonight, Jo?"

"Like you could get out of it," Jo joked.

"No. I mean deep, slow, passionate lovemaking, like you haven't seen me for weeks or months."

"Sometimes… it feels like I'm seeing you for the first time." Jo could make out the outline of her forehead, her high cheekbones, her upturned nose, the brilliant smile that was the crowning glory of her beauty.

Raindrops beat against the window plaintively, some running down a solitary path, others joining together to create a new course. Inside, two young lovers flowed seamlessly into a stream of bliss.

* * *

Tootie had been wonderful in her debut as a featured performer in a Langley production. Blair and Jo met her backstage along with Natalie and Mrs. Garrett. Blair presented her with a bouquet of roses.

"Oh! Thank you, Blair!" Tootie gushed.

"You were amazing!" Mrs. Garrett praised.

"Who is this person?" Natalie hugged her.

"Guys!" Tootie eyed them excitedly. "There is an opening night after-party! You want to come?"

"I'm down!" Natalie beamed.

"Okay," Blair and Jo shrugged at each other.

"I have to beg off, girls," Mrs. Garrett apologized. "It's a little late for me."

As Mrs. Garrett left, the other girls turned to Tootie.

"Let's go!" Natalie smiled.

"Okay," Tootie looked at them conspiratorially and whispered. "The party's upstairs!"

Jo absent-mindedly joined hands with Blair. "Lead the way!"

Tootie led them to a large room in the theatre building. It was _completely_ theater. There were props and large scenery backdrops lining the walls. Two girls in gossamer gowns offered them drinks as they entered. Music was blaring as people danced randomly with each other. Others stretched out on couches or gathered around tables.

"Welcome to the world of theater!" Tootie smiled at them as she yelled over the music and flashing lights.

Jo took a sip of her drink. "Whoa! I thought alcohol wasn't allowed on campus!"

"It's not," Tootie smiled. "Don't tell, okay?"

"Check out the costumes on those two," Jo spoke in an aside to Blair as she nodded at the young women passing out drinks. "You can practically see right through them!"

"Don't get any ideas," Blair nudged her playfully.

One of them circled back around. She was very well endowed. Her sheer costume left little to the imagination. She bounced up against Jo, grabbed her head with both hands… and kissed her.

"Hey!" Blair called out as she snatched the girl's hair and yanked her away from Jo.

"What's your problem?" the young woman glared at Blair. "It's a party! Relax!"

"She's spoken for!"

"What? By you?" she eyed Blair up and down. "You don't look gay."

"Just what, exactly, is gay supposed to look like?" Blair fumed.

The girl stared at Jo standing in her suit with her hands shoved into her pants pockets.

"Like that," she nodded. She placed a piece of paper into Jo's breast pocket and patted it.

"Call me when you get bored!" She jerked her head towards Blair.

"Did you just give my girlfriend your number right in front of me?"

The young woman flounced away without answering.

"Is it her phone number?" Blair asked.

Jo looked at the slip of paper. "Yep."

"I'm going to kill her!" Blair started off after the girl.

Jo tackled her and held her steady.

"Calm down," she breathed into her ear.

"How can I when she went after you like that right in front of me?" Blair complained, still angry.

"What's going on?" Natalie ran up to them.

"That _thing_ ," Blair pointed to the young woman in question, "kissed Jo!"

"What?" Natalie glared at the woman. "Let's kick her ass!"

"My sentiments exactly," Blair narrowed her eyes as she put a mental target on the other girl's back.

"Hold on, the both of you!" Jo called out. "This isn't a back alley in the Bronx! Besides, you abhor violence, remember, Blair?"

"No one hits on my girlfriend in my presence! I have a reputation to protect!"

"She made a mistake," Jo continued, "She didn't know I was with you."

Blair exhaled deeply. "Jo, she put her phone number into your pocket and patted your breast right in front of me!"

"She did what?" Natalie was astonished.

"Let's just let this go," Jo sighed. She crumpled the slip of paper and tossed it over her shoulder.

"Blair?" Natalie eyed her friend. "If you want to have words with that girl, I've got your back!"

"No, Jo's right. I abhor violence and I don't know if I could be responsible for my actions if I faced off with her."

"Because another woman kissed your girlfriend? Totally justified. I still want to kick her ass, Blair."

"Yeah, I know. But I got an ass kicking a while ago, remember, Nat? Violence is not cool. Even if she does deserve it!"

Natalie reflected. "Right," she nodded.

"I don't know why I got so upset," Blair regained herself and laughed.

"That's my girl," Jo placed her arm around her. "But, it was almost worth a fight to watch Blair Warner transform into Conan the Barbarian right in front of my eyes," Jo chuckled.

"Conan the Barbarian? I think not!" Blair huffed. "I prefer Red Sonja!" she winked and smiled at Jo. "It's not like I was going to actually hit her, anyway. Tongue lashings are more my style."

"Don't I know it," Jo bit her lower lip and shook her head appreciatively. "Have you ever even been in an actual fight, Blair?"

"I grew up in all female boarding schools. I've been challenged, believe me."

"Remember that time those two girls tried to jump you in the bathroom, Blair?" Natalie's eyes grew wide.

"Those morons. One of them thought I was moving in on her boyfriend. Like I would have gone after their skanky losers, blech!"

"It was epic, Jo," Natalie beamed excitedly as she recalled the story. "Blair told them because it was two against one that they would probably win. But that she was going to get in one good shot before she let either of them mess up her face. Then she asked them who wants it first?"

"Yeah?" Jo was impressed. "So what happened?"

"They took one look at Blair's clenched fist and the look on her face and bolted!"

"Where were you, Nat? How come you didn't have Blair's back?"

"Get in the middle of a big-girl fight? No way! I was hiding in the bathroom stall looking out the crack in the door, duh."

"You're a tiger, Blair," Jo nodded proudly. "And here I thought your fighting skills were limited to mopping up scum at drive-ins with a bucket of popcorn on your head!"

"Very funny," Blair grumbled. "If you had been protecting me, like you _should have been_ , I wouldn't have had to deal with that girl at all!"

"Aah, you did fine. Put her in her place!"

"I would prefer not to fight. The whole idea is uncouth and unladylike!"

"Yeah, but you were about to kick some ass tonight. What gives?" Jo questioned.

"She _kissed_ you, Jo," Blair stared at her incredulously.

"Oh," Jo smiled.

"What took you so long to disengage from that kiss, by the way?" Blair eyed her.

"She totally surprised me, Blair! And before I knew it, you had her by the hair!"

"Did you enjoy it?" Blair questioned.

"Of course not! I'm not enjoying any of this… except maybe for the part where you got so jealous," Jo grinned. "Look, it's a party. These are Tootie's friends. Can we stop making a scene and have a good time now?"

"Alright then," Blair sighed. "Besides, it's not like she's a threat, or anything, right?" She looked at Jo.

Jo shrugged and gave her a look as if to say _of course not_.

Blair wasn't satisfied. "Right, Jo?" She repeated with emphasis.

"Right, Blair," Jo responded.

As Blair led her away, Jo gave a look over shoulder. "I _do_ like her outfit, Blair. You got anything like that at home?"

Blair gave her a look that could kill.

* * *

After the party, Jo still had some questions as she drove them home.

"So, that whole incident with the kiss girl…"

"Oh," Blair interrupted her indignantly, " _the kiss girl?_ Is that what we're calling her now?"

"You know what I mean, the girl who kissed me. It just seemed so out of character for you to want to go after her like that."

"When I saw her touch you, I just flashed, Jo. I don't know what else to tell you."

"I know, I get that, but after everything we've been through, with you getting beat up and how you felt about the abuse Patrick is facing in prison, I just thought you were beyond any kind of physical aggression. Seems kind of out of place."

"After everything we've been through, I couldn't stand watching someone else touch you like that! You're mine and only mine, I have to know that, Jo!"

"Of course I'm yours, Blair. That's not even a question."

"I felt so intensely possessive when she touched you. I can't explain it. But, I wasn't going to kick her ass, anyway. You're right. I never have been in an actual girl fight. But, I was going to tell her off, big time!"

"Why did you act like you were going to kick her ass?"

"Natalie was there. I couldn't back down in front of Natalie, could I? I wanted to maintain my mystique in front of her."

"I'm not sure we have any mystique left, as far as Nat and Tootie are concerned," Jo offered. "I mean, between you talking about dildos in front of them and me leaving my handcuffs at Mrs. G's, I think the _mystique_ is kind of gone."

"No way, Jo! You heard Nat tell the story of when I was jumped in the bathroom all those years ago. She called it _epic!_ They still look up to us!"

"So… was that a true story about the bathroom?"

"It happened. I knew I was outnumbered. I figured if someone was going to mess up _this_ face," Blair pointed to her face dramatically, "one of them was going to pay… even if I had to break a nail or two."

"I like that, Blair: the image of you as a tough girl!"

"I'm not a fighter, but I won't back down."

"I dunno'." Jo shook her head. "Since we came out, you've been more aggressive, like you won't take any crap off anyone."

"That's because I won't: not about you and me and the nature of our relationship. I've had to work on that, by the way. Antwoine pointed out that I was new at being part of an oppressed minority and that I had to pick my battles."

"Antwoine is wise," Jo nodded. "So? Tonight was a battle you thought was worth fighting?"

"I already told you I wasn't going to fight her, just tell her off."

"I wasn't worth fighting for?"

"You're being ridiculous. If anyone came after you, in _any_ way, I would fight for you."

"Good to know."

"But now that I'm aware of my propensity for hot-bloodedness, I'm working to control it. The next time another woman kisses you, I'll try to keep my hands from pulling her hair out. Oh, and Jo?"

"Yes, Blair?"

"There better not be a next time."

"Yes ma'am," Jo grinned as she pulled into the driveway.

As she locked the door of the duplex behind them, Jo had one last question for her.

"So, Blair? _Do_ _you_ have a dress like kiss girl's?"

Blair shot her a dangerous look. Jo grinned at her.

"I mean, it was sexy, right?" Jo continued to tease.

Blair narrowed her eyes at her and clenched her fists.

"All see-through, with those big boobs bouncing underneath," Jo went on.

"Jo?" Blair moved towards her menacingly.

"I did find her attractive," Jo smiled mischievously.

"Jo?" Blair's eyes shot daggers.

"So glad you're working on your propensity for hot-bloodedness!" Jo suddenly bolted for the stairs.

"Oh, you better run!" Blair chased her.

* * *

It was raining on the day that Jo and Blair decided to decorate their Christmas tree. As the storm raged outside, they were safe and warm inside, with a fire in the fireplace and boxes of decorations spread before them. Jo handled the lights. They worked together to hang the strings of beads. Blair had purchased several delicate and beautiful ornaments that they placed gently on the branches. Jo had purchased nondescript ornaments at K-Mart.

"Really, Jo?" Blair complained.

"It's tradition, Blair. My Mom got ornaments like these. What's wrong with them?"

Blair gazed at her. She looked crestfallen.

"Of course these belong on our tree!" she smiled as she began arranging the K-Mart ornaments on the branches.

"Thanks, Blair," Jo smiled. "Hey, did you get the angel? The one we saw in the Christmas Boutique store?"

"I did," Blair rummaged through their decoration boxes until she produced it.

Jo climbed the stepladder and placed the angel on top of the tree. She climbed back down and sat next to Blair on the couch.

"Our first Christmas Tree," Blair laid her head on Jo's shoulder. "It's beautiful."

"It is," Jo placed her arm around her.

Suddenly, the noise of the rain stopped. There was silence outside. Jo and Blair gazed at each other, wide-eyed.

"Snow!" they both yelled at once.

They ran to the door and opened it. It was, indeed, snowing. Blair ran outside.

"Snow!" she danced in the snowflakes.

Jo rolled her eyes. "You're going to catch your death of cold, Warner!"

"C'mon, Jo! It's magical!"

Jo stepped out onto the deck with her. She tried to catch a few snowflakes on her tongue. Blair joined in her pursuit. They both laughed and delighted in the simple joy that was snow. Finally, Blair grabbed Jo and held her.

"I love this."

"Me too," Jo kissed her.

"I love everything about this," Blair continued. "Our tree, a real Christmas, a fire in the fireplace, the snow!"

Jo gazed at her as she felt her heart fill with joy. Blair was finally going to experience what Christmas was all about… with her, here, in their house.

"Want to take this inside?" she kissed her again.

"What ever could you be suggesting?" Blair batted her eyes at her.

They made love on a blanket, in front of the fire, under their tree.

Their plan for Christmas Eve was to visit Mrs. Garrett for dinner and then return home for a night alone.

Mrs. G. had prepared her usual feast. Blair and Jo were happy to be with her again on this most special of holidays.

"This reminds me of the time you surprised us on Christmas Eve, Blair," Mrs. Garrett mentioned over dinner. "That was so lovely."

Jo and Blair eyed each other affectionately.

"It was my best Christmas ever, Mrs. Garrett," Blair smiled at her.

"I'm so glad you two girls could be here tonight!" Mrs. G. returned her smile. "What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"My Mother has decided to actually spend a Christmas at home," Blair informed. "We're going to drive over there tomorrow afternoon and spend a few days."

"We're going to see my Mom, too," Jo informed. "The day after Christmas. She invited us."

"She invited the both of you?" Edna asked curiously.

"Yeah, Mrs. G., she invited Blair, too," Jo smiled.

"Oh, that _is_ wonderful! Good for Rose. I told you she'd come around! She just needed a little time."

"I still feel nervous about it," Blair admitted.

"It'll be fine, Blair," Jo reassured. "Mom always liked you."

"Until she found out about us!"

"It's like Mrs. G. said, she needed time to adjust to the idea. She's okay with it now, really Blair."

"I hope so," Blair bit her lower lip.

"Anyway," Jo moved on, "we'll spend a few days in the city, but come back here for New Year's Eve."

"What? You two don't want to be in the city for New Year's Eve? Times Square…" Mrs. Garrett waxed romantic. "The ball falling, the first kiss of the new year?"

"I've been there, done that," Blair reported. "Not the kissing thing, but the Times Square thing."

"Me, too," Jo added. "It's crowded, cold, and drunk."

"Plus, impossible to get a cab home!" Blair complained.

"Nah, we want to be in our new place, alone together on New Year's Eve, Mrs. G.," Jo said.

"I guess I can understand that," Mrs. Garrett nodded.

"Um, I've got to ask you guys something," Jo began nervously. "Feel free to say no, but I was wondering if you would attend Midnight Mass with me? I'd like to do it for my Ma and for everything we've been through this year. Just to give thanks, ya' know, that things turned out so well?"

"Oh!" Edna was surprised. "I haven't attended Midnight Mass for years! I would love to go with you!"

"Blair?" Jo eyed her anxiously.

"Church is not my thing, you know that, Jo."

"Blair?" Jo stated again expectantly.

"Of course I'll go to Midnight Mass with you! Duh!" Blair smiled her mega-watt smile.

"Thanks, you guys," Jo smiled sweetly.

* * *

Blair, Jo and Mrs. Garrett stood in a church pew. As the choir sang _"Oh, Holy Night",_ tears began to fill Jo's eyes. Blair slid her hand into hers. They locked fingers. Mrs. Garrett took Jo's other hand. They all sang together.

" _Fall on your knees,"_ Blair's lovely voice suddenly soared above them. _"Oh hear the angel voices!"_

Mrs. Garrett and Jo looked at her in amazement. Blair smiled at them as they all giggled and began to sing together again.

After mass, they stood on the church steps. The choir was still singing Christmas carols and their voices echoed through the cold night air. Jo, Blair and Mrs. Garrett gazed at each other as their breath clouded before them.

"Merry Christmas, girls," Mrs. Garrett hugged them both. "I love you."

"Love you, too," Blair and Jo acknowledged as the hugged her back, Blair holding on especially tight.

"I am so proud of you!" Edna whispered before releasing her.

They had come in Mrs. Garrett's car.

"Ready to go?" she asked cheerfully. Blair and Jo looked at each other.

"You know, Mrs. G? I think we'll walk home. It's not far," Jo said.

"But what about Blair's car? It's parked at my house."

"It's already packed for our trip. I made Blair plan ahead, for once," Jo smiled at the blonde as Blair rolled her eyes. "We can take my bike down and pick it up in the morning, if that's okay with you. It will give us an excuse to see you on Christmas Day."

"Oh, girls, you don't ever need an excuse to see me, you know that."

"But, still," Jo nudged Blair. "I think we'd like to walk through the town, check out the Christmas lights again."

"Very well, then," Edna smiled. "See you tomorrow!"

Blair and Jo walked arm in arm through the town. There were Christmas lights and decorations everywhere. They both thought it quite charming and romantic.

"It's Christmas Day now, Blair," Jo pointed out as they entered their home. "Want to open presents?"

"Why not?" Blair agreed happily.

Jo unwrapped her first gift. It was a framed painting. It looked somewhat familiar. Finally, it dawned on her.

"The pussy painting!" she exclaimed.

"We have to quit calling it that, Jo. It's actually an abstract impression based upon your pussy," Blair informed.

"I love it, Blair! The colors are beautiful! It's like a flower or something: very erotic, without being specific. You can't tell this is me at all!"

"I call it _Elation_!"

"Huh. Okay. Well, let's hang this in the bedroom. We're the only ones who need to know it's a pussy painting!"

" _Elation,"_ Blair reiterated. "I want to do a series, Jo."

"Uh-uh. No way you're doing a series of pussy paintings."

"I need another inside and two outside."

"Ha! Forget it, Blair. I am not posing for you outside!"

"We could do it on the penthouse terrace or at the beach cottage when no one's there."

"Ain't happening," Jo shook her head. "Here. This is for you," Jo placed a present in her hand.

Blair unwrapped a carved cedar jewelry box.

"This is exquisite, Jo. Where ever did you find it?"

"Find it? I made it! I'm good with my hands, remember, Blair?"

"You made this?" Blair ran her hands over the box. "It's lovely!"

"Look inside," Jo stated excitedly.

Blair opened the box. She pulled out a vintage gold pocket watch. "This is beautiful," Blair turned it over in her hand. "It's like jewelry."

"I found it in a second hand store, picked it up for a song. It didn't work, but I took it over to Mr. Hamilton's repair shop and he helped me fix it. A little polishing and ta da! A shiny new watch!"

Blair was still examining it. "Jo, this watch is stamped with a karat symbol. It's solid gold."

"I know. It wasn't even visible until I cleaned it up. It's amazing what you can find at thrift stores!"

"I wouldn't know. I've never been to one."

"So? Do you like it?"

"Yes. It's beautiful, Jo! But, um, why a watch? I have about ten of them."

"And you're still always late. I figured with this one in your purse, it would make you think of me and how hard I worked on it and inspire you to be on time!"

Blair gave her an ironic smile. "Don't get your hopes up. But, I love it anyway. It's completely unique. I will always think of you when I look at it."

"I'm glad," Jo smiled back.

"So, one more gift," Blair reached behind her and handed Jo another box. Jo opened it and stared apprehensively.

"You made cookies," she tried to smile.

"Try one!" Blair suggested expectantly.

Jo took a small bite of a cookie. Her face lit up. "Hey! These _are_ good!"

"I've been taking a cooking class! Do you really think they're good?"

"Yeah, Blair! They're delicious! How come you didn't tell me you were taking a cooking class?"

"I wanted to surprise you."

"You have! When did you make these?"

"When you went out this morning."

"When you sent me out on errands for you this morning, you mean," Jo said.

"It would hardly be a surprise if I baked them right in front of you!"

"Well, these are great, Blair!"

Blair fetched two glasses of milk. They snuggled up together and ate cookies.

"Milk and cookies on Christmas Eve," Jo nodded. "We're just a couple of wild and crazy girls!"

"It doesn't get any better than this, Jo," Blair looked at her tenderly.

"You're so cute, Blair," Jo sighed as she kissed her cheek.

"Besides, we've still got time for wild and crazy," Blair smiled suggestively. "You know what to do?"

"I think so," Jo said. "I'll go upstairs first?"

"I'll clean up down here and be there in a few minutes."

Jo put on a nightshirt and crawled under the covers. She turned out the lights. A few minutes later, she heard the door open. Blair crawled in beside her. She didn't say anything, but reached up under Jo's nightshirt and fondled her breasts.

"Is that you, Blair?" Jo whispered.

They both laughed.

"Are you going to kick me out?" Blair breathed into her ear. "Please don't, Jo. I've waited so long for this. I've loved you forever."

"I'm scared, Blair. I've never done anything like this before."

"But doesn't it feel good?" Blair ran her hand down beneath Jo's underpants.

"Blair!" Jo turned and looked at her. "You wouldn't have done that back then!"

"I might have!" Blair defended herself. "If you hadn't pretended to be asleep!"

"We're supposed to be recreating that Christmas Eve as it _could have_ happened."

"That's what I'm doing," Blair teased.

Jo parted her legs to grant Blair access. "Maybe if you had done this a few years ago, I wouldn't have resisted," Jo sighed. "Maybe I would have made love to you instead of pretending I was asleep. God knows, I wanted too."

Blair slid her fingers along her slick folds. "I guess we'll never know…"

"Oh God, Blair," Jo moaned.

"Merry Christmas, Jo."

* * *

The holidays had passed. Jo and Blair fell back into their regular school routine. Jo thumbed through a textbook and checked the clock. Blair was late… again. Apparently the watch she had given her for Christmas hadn't positively affected her sense of time as Jo had hoped it would. They were supposed to go out to lunch together. She said she'd be home early, but it was already one o'clock and she wasn't home yet. Jo was upstairs, lying on the bed, studying. As she heard Blair's car in the driveway, she jumped up and ran to the window. _Finally, what's with her and time management anyway?_

Blair exited her car with a large assortment of balloons. She almost slipped on the snow as she gazed up at the window and spied Jo. An embarrassed smile crossed her lips as she tilted her head adorably and shrugged. Jo couldn't help but smile back. _I guess I'll forgive her._

She ran down the stairs to greet her.

"What's with the balloons?" Jo asked.

"You got me balloons once, remember?"

"Yeah…" Jo drew out, "but that was for a special occasion."

"This is a special occasion, too," Blair was mysterious. "I got you a present, but you'll have to find it!"

"Oooh, I like the sound of that," Jo walked over to her and kissed her.

"Here, hold the balloons," Blair handed them to her as she walked around to the front of her car. She was about to open the trunk, when she heard Jo yell.

"Oops! Some balloons got away!"

Blair looked at two golden balloons sailing up high into the gray sky.

"Shit, Jo! That's where I put the present!"

"What?" Jo looked confused. "You put a present in the balloons?"

"No! I tied it to the golden ones! Quick! We have to chase them!" she began to run in the direction of the balloons.

Jo released the rest of the balloons and grabbed her bike. She rode up beside Blair. "Jump on!" she called out.

They turned the corner from the driveway and rode down the street, following the runaway balloons.

"They're not getting as high as the others," Jo called back to her.

"That's because they're weighed down! Keep following them, Jo!"

The balloons took a turn into the woods. Jo's bike almost skidded out of control on the slick street as she made a hard left onto a muddy path. Blair tightened her hold on Jo's waist as she righted the bike. The path had been cleared of snow. But after a while, it became too treacherous for a motorcycle. They had to get off the bike and follow on foot. The balloons had become lodged in a tree.

"Look, Blair! There they are! Um… way high up in that tree," Jo's voice trailed off as she glanced at the height of the tree.

"Let's get over there!" Blair grabbed her hand.

As they hurried down an embankment, Blair slipped, dragging Jo with her. They were covered in mud.

"Nice one, Warner," Jo complained.

"They're still up there," Blair was undeterred. She got up and started slip-sliding across the snow.

"Hey, wait up!" Jo clamored after her.

Blair's enthusiastic pursuit caused her to slip again. This time she slid down a snow bank and landed near a stream.

"Blair!" Jo yelled as she glided down the snowy ridge and joined her.

They lay on their backs in the snow, staring up at the tree.

"I just don't get you sometimes," Jo complained. "You can ride a horse, play tennis, swim… but somehow the simple act of running is fraught with danger for you!"

"They're still up there," Blair smiled sheepishly as she pointed up at the two balloons.

"Fat lot of good it's going to do us," Jo smirked.

They were both muddy and covered with snow.

Blair smiled over at her. "You look pretty cute, all messy."

"Back at ya'," Jo grinned.

They lay quiet for a few moments, their eyes fixed on each other.

"What now?" Jo turned her glance back up to the tree. "It's a little cold out here," she shivered.

"Have faith, Jo," Blair stated calmly.

A gust of wind came up, popping both balloons against a branch. A small jewelry bag landed squarely on Jo's chest.

"Surprise," Blair laughed.

"Ah, for me?" Jo feigned shock. "You shouldn't have! Nice piece of luck, having your gift land right on me."

"Not luck, Jo, providence," Blair propped herself up on an elbow. "Open it!"

Jo opened the bag. Her jaw dropped and her face registered a look of true astonishment as she peered inside. "Blair?" she questioned.

"Well?" Blair gazed at her expectantly.

"I don't know what to say," Jo shook her head.

Blair took the bag from her and dropped two rings into the palm of her hand.

"Say yes. Say you'll wear my ring."

Jo smiled brilliantly. "Yes, Blair."

Blair slid one of the rings onto Jo's finger.

"I can't believe you got us rings, Blair," Jo said as she began to slip the other ring onto Blair's finger.

"Wait, Jo!" she stopped her.

"What?"

"You haven't asked me yet," Blair batted her eyes.

"I'm not sure what I'm asking here, Blair. You know we can't get married, right?"

"I know that, silly. Just think of this as a promise ring."

"A promise ring?"

"Yeah, you know, as in I promise to commit myself to this relationship, forsaking all others, holding dearly to only you, being true to you, loving you forever."

"That kinda' sounds like a marriage, Blair."

"You mean… you wouldn't marry me?" Blair looked hurt.

"No! I didn't say that!"

"So then you would marry me!"

"If we could get married, and that's a _big_ if, Blair, I would only marry you. But, we're kind of young for marriage anyway."

"What?" Blair was clearly upset. "That is the most unromantic proposal ever!"

"That's because it wasn't a proposal!"

"So, you don't want to marry me!" Blair huffed as she jumped up.

"Aw c'mon, Blair. Don't be a brat."

"Forget it, Jo! I wanted this to be beautiful and you've gone and ruined it!"

"How did I ruin it, huh? We're out here soaking wet and muddy, with twigs in our hair. What was there to ruin?"

"Because I wanted this to be so romantic! I had it all planned!"

"It's not my fault that you didn't plan better, Blair," Jo was irritated that she was being held to blame for Blair's mistake.

"I hate you right now!" Blair fired back at her. "Go get on your bike! I'm walking home!"

 _Uh-oh!_ Blair was much more upset than Jo had gauged. She needed to do something… _fast!_ She grabbed her hands and knelt before her.

"Do not urge me to leave you or turn back from following you; for where you go, I will go, and where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus may the Lord do to me, and worse, if anything but death parts you and me."

"Jo?" Blair looked down at her.

Jo got on one knee. "Blair Warner, will you marry me?"

She looked up to her for some sign of approval. A tear ran down Blair's cheek as she nodded and smiled brilliantly back down at her. Jo slid the ring onto her finger. Blair dabbed her teary eyes and sniffled.

"Hey, why you are crying?"

"Because I've waited so long for this moment. I've dreamed of it, Jo!"

"Was it everything you expected?"

Blair thought for a moment. "Well, I didn't expect to be standing all muddy in the snow with twigs in my hair, as you pointed out. But, yes, it actually felt better than I expected."

"I guess that means I'm stuck with you," Jo smiled charmingly. "Now that you've agreed to marry me."

"Don't be silly, Jo. We can't get married," Blair teased.

"I'm gonna' kill you, Blair," Jo pulled her back down into the snow and kissed her.

"I really liked the Bible quote. _Book of Ruth?"_

"Yeah! How'd _you_ know that?"

"It's like the gayest book in the Bible, Jo, duh."

"You crack me up, Blair," Jo chuckled.

"Oh, Jo! I almost forgot… there's an inscription!"

Jo removed her ring and looked inside. _Blair and Jo_ was written in script.

"I like it, Blair. Not too flowery, ya' know? Just says it all in three words."

"I thought you'd like it that way," Blair nodded.

"What does yours say?" Jo asked.

"Oh, mines a little more effusive," Blair smiled.

She took off her ring and handed it to her. _Jo and Blair_ read the simple inscription. Jo shook her head appreciatively.

"Now, put it back on," Blair demanded. "My hand already feels naked without it!"

They replaced their rings.

"We'll never take these off again!" Blair stated emphatically.

"Because, we've made a commitment to each other," Jo eyed her lovingly. "I didn't need a ring, you know. I was already committed to you. But, it is a nice gesture. Very romantic." Jo eyed her ring. It was silver, inlaid with a gold pattern: the infinity symbol surrounding a small, heart-shaped diamond. "I like these, Blair. Very tasteful."

"I wanted to get something you wouldn't mind wearing, so I kept it simple."

"You know me well," Jo replied. "So, what prompted this, Blair?"

"I just wanted you to remember that your spoken for, the next time you see a sexy thing at a theater party or large breasted woman on the beach."

"Maybe you're the one who needs the reminder the next time you start drooling over Katie Flanagan."

"I _do not_ drool, Jo."

"Sure you do. Sometimes at night, your lying there, asleep, and a little drool forms on the corner of your lip and runs down your cheek."

"No way, Jo! That doesn't happen, does it?"

Jo laughed. "Relax, Blair. It only happened once."

"It's still disgusting."

"So what was your plan, Blair? For the rings, I mean."

"Oh, Jo!" Blair stated enthusiastically. "It was going to be so awesome! I had written all these clues for you to search for the gift. Each clue had a hint about what it was."

"So why did you hand me the balloons?"

"I thought it would be amusing if I had you searching for a present that you had actually carried into the house. I guess I should've remembered the two strings tied to the rings were shorter."

"That was the flaw in your plan," Jo nodded.

"All's well, that ends well," Blair held her hand.

Another gust of wind passed through the trees. A branch, which had been holding _way_ too much snow, snapped. It clung precariously to the trunk, but sent its load of snow hurtling down towards Blair and Jo. It hit them in the face.

"That hurt," Blair mumbled as she cleared snow from her eyes and mouth.

"You know the colleges you're thinking of applying to?" Jo wiped snow from her face. "Is California still on the list?"

Blair laughed.

"C'mon," she rose and pulled Jo up with her. "Let's go home."

"So, Blair," Jo asked as they trudged through the snow. "Do you think there will ever come a time when we'll be able to get married for real?"

"I don't know, Jo. A lot would have to change. I can't really see it in our lifetimes."

"Me neither," Jo sighed sadly.

Epilogue

Saturday, August 13, 2011, South Hampton, New York:

"Look at this place," Blair gazed out the window at the new deck.

"Patrick's crew did a great job," Jo agreed as she slipped her arms around her from behind and kissed her neck.

"I'm so glad he made his contractor's business a success."

"He owes that to you, Blair."

"All our closest friends and family are here," Blair leaned back into her.

Probably about 100 people were sitting in chairs on the deck, chatting and laughing. There was a latticework trellis at the end of the deck with flowers strewn over it. The ocean provided a sweeping backdrop for the scene.

"Look at the kids," Jo rested her head against Blair's.

Two teenagers leant against the trellis. They were both elegantly dressed. Eddie was short for Edna Monica Rose. There had been much discussion about her name, as both women wanted to name her after Mrs. Garrett, but neither wanted to call her Edna. Blair, however, had not been comfortable with the Eddie nickname: Jo's old boyfriend's name. Jo had finally prevailed as she reminded Blair that her old boyfriend had actually been a catalyst in helping her identify her true sexual nature and leading her to Blair. Eddie wore a stylish green dress, which set off her sea green eyes. She punched Joey in the arm and shook her dark, wavy hair dramatically. Her smile was electric, just as her mother's. Joey postured defensively in a dramatic manner. They both laughed. Joey's first name had been a no-brainer for both women. It was his last name that had created tension. It seemed David Warner was desperate for a male heir to carry on the Warner name. Blair was good with this; Jo felt she was giving up her own heritage. It was Jo's father, Charlie, who finally prevailed: convincing his daughter that having grandchildren with the Warner name wasn't exactly objectionable to him. _"Having offspring with the Warner last name? You could do a lot worse kid,"_ he had winked. Joey's light brown hair was cut very short. He sported a well-fitted tux, his large brown eyes with flecks of green and gold and brilliant smile leaving little doubt as to his maternal heritage. Antwoine walked up and embraced them both.

"They _do_ love their Daddy," Blair nudged Jo.

"He's been a great Dad," Jo agreed.

"Look at Tootie's kids," Blair remarked. "They're so grown!"

"Nat's new husband is as handsome as the last," Jo commented.

"Our parents look a little nervous, Jo."

"Correction, _your_ parents look nervous. My parents look drunk."

"Yeah. Maybe we shouldn't have opened the bar until _after_ the ceremony."

They both laughed.

"I'm just glad they all lived long enough to see this," Jo sighed.

"We've had quite the life, Polniaczek."

"I wouldn't trade a minute of it," Jo whispered into her ear.

"Hey you two!" A beautiful, blonde young woman interrupted them. "Everything's set to go! Are you ready?"

"Coming, Bailey!" Blair called back.

"So," Jo took both her hands and looked her in the eyes. "Are you ready for this?"

"I've been ready for this for twenty-five years," Blair kissed her.

A string quartet began playing on a signal from Bailey. Everyone rose and glanced back as Blair and Jo walked each other down the isle. Blair was dressed in an elegant, mid-knee, cream-colored dress with her hair swept up by an understated flower arrangement. Jo wore a tux.

"Blair just keeps getting more beautiful," Tootie whispered to Natalie. "It's like she has a painting aging in an attic somewhere."

"I know, right?" Nat shook her head. "Jo looks good, too. I like how her hair is up with the little bangs in front. She almost looks like she did when we were kids! Do you think Blair did her hair and make-up?"

"I think Blair paid to have someone do _both_ their hair and makeup!" Tootie replied.

"Of course, duh!" Natalie slapped herself in the forehead. The two longtime friends became silent, linked arms and beamed as Jo and Blair smiled at them on their way to the altar.

Mrs. Garrett, retired from the Peace Corp and single again, was crying as they nodded at her. She was seated with their parents. They all beamed with pride. As they approached the trellis, their children were waiting for them. They were each given a kiss by both of them, before they stepped to the side. Jo and Blair faced each other under the trellis. The music stopped and there was hush as the representative for the State of New York appeared between them.

"As a duly licensed wedding officiant of the State of New York, it is my privilege and honor to preside over the wedding of my big sisters, Blair and Jo," Bailey could barely contain her joy. "The brides have written their own vows," she stepped back.

"We've travelled a long path to get to this point," Blair began. "It didn't start out stellar for us. We had many disagreements and fights."

The assembled laughed.

"She said _fights_ ," Natalie whispered to Tootie.

"I knew that," Tootie spoke quietly out of the side of her mouth. "Bickering… ha!"

"But all that was merely subterfuge for the passion that burned so bright just below the surface. It's been said that the soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience. All those years ago, my soul stood ajar and you walked in. When I found you, I found my voice, my purpose, myself. I am who I am, because of you. Any good I do in this world, has its foundation in my love for you. Jo Polniaczek, you are my love, my light, my heart and soul, my life. You are the air that I breathe. I could not love you more. This is the proudest moment of my life to be able to stand here and voice my commitment to you before all our friends and family, before the world and without reservation. I love you."

Jo cleared her throat, choking back tears.

"Blair, I didn't like it when my Mom sent me to Eastland. I didn't want to attend some prissy girl's school upstate."

Again, there was laughter from the attendees.

"But, now I know there was a reason for me being there. You were that reason. You took my breath away from the first time we met and you still do. Your capacity for kindness, compassion, and generosity, your innate goodness, has taught me to be a better person. I am who I am today because of you. I used to rail at the world, with fist clenched, angry at the sky. You took that anger away, not with words, but by you being you. I no longer shake my fist and curse at the heavens. Now, I walk in the shoes of others, see the world through their eyes. And, you know what? It's a great view. A long time ago, I made you a vow in private. I would like to renew that vow, publicly, at this time.

Where you go, I will go, and where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus may the Lord do to me, and worse, if anything but death parts you and me. I love you, Blair."

Bailey stepped forward. "The rings?" she looked at Eddie and Joey. Eddie stepped forward and handed Blair her ring. Joey handed Jo her ring. They slipped off their promise rings, from so long ago, and handed them to their children. They replaced them with wedding rings.

Bailey cleared tears from her eyes as she began.

"Do you, Blair Warner, take Jo to be your lawfully wedded wife, to cling to her only, forsaking all others?"

"I do," Blair smiled her most radiant smile as tears streamed down her face.

"Do you, Joanna Polniaczek, take Blair to be your lawfully wedded wife, to cling to her only, forsaking all others?"

"I do," Jo smiled back at Blair, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

Bailey put her hand on Blair's arm. "I'm so excited, Blair!" she whispered breathlessly. "I can't believe we're really doing this!" she enthused.

"Bailey?" Blair smiled back at her and chuckled a little. "We have to finish this, okay, sweetheart?"

"Oh, um, right!"

"By the power vested in me by the State of New York," Bailey beamed enthusiastically, "I now pronounce you married!"

Everyone cheered.

"You may kiss, brides!" Bailey added.

They did.

A photographer jumped up and snapped a photo.

Bishop O'Brien sat behind his desk, a Papal encyclical and _The Weekly World News_ spread before him. _What to read, what to read_ , he pondered.

" _Hillary Clinton's E-mail's to Alien Lover Revealed!"_ screamed the headline of one. He flipped through the pages. Something caught his eye. Two women he had known from long ago were in a photo… kissing.

" _Warner CEO Jilts Bat Boy to Wed Lezzy Software Designer!"_ the caption read.

He remembered his conversation with Jo and her mother from years past as he smiled at the photo. "Good for Jo and Blair," he nodded. "I'm glad they're happy."

He continued to thumb through the rag: "Now… for the truth about those mischievous aliens interfering with our political process!"

The End


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